Bang
by kaze karter
Summary: The Register becomes headline news when its reporters are held hostage. Time to teach the power of the written word. Complete.
1. Prologue: 1st move

Disclaimer- I own nothing recognizable.

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A/n- A few characters from the books may make appearances along the way in this one, but they probably won't be big factors. Also this chapter is pretty short by my usual standards, hope you like it. Reviews and flames welcome :)

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Prologue

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_Tap, tap, tap._

_Tap_,_ tap,_ an afterthought

_Tap_, a full stop.

That sound was silence around the main office of the busiest paper house in all of San Francisco. The staff of The Register had learned to push the gentle tapping of keys to the back of their minds, along with everything else that didn't fall under the category 'scoop'

Cindy Thomas was one of the fastest to master that particular skill, and for that she was respected, nothing at all to do with the front pages she constantly had her name splashed across, the tiny brunette gave a quirk of a smile, not her fault the city loved crime, and crime loved the city.

It made her job easy, walk down any back alley and she'd have a pad full of notes to her hand her editor, with a few behind the scenes extra's courtesy of her best friends.

Yes, Lindsay Boxer, Claire Washburn and Jill Bernhardt were the greatest sources she had ever come across. Not that it didn't work both ways, Cindy had cracked a case for them time enough.

Cindy looked up from her computer screen when the large glass entrence doors opened, the tapping sound losing a decibel as her digits stopped moving. A man had entered and he seemed to her to be the physical embodiment of the saying 'can't catch a break' he was wearing a dress shirt and tailored pants, but that was the highlight of his appearance, sunken, depressed, hurt eyes seemed to large for their sockets and his shoulders were slumped at an angle, he shuffled when he walked, his lips were thin and chapped and his skin, sallow and ashen, he gazed slowly around the large stylish office, taking in the many faces of curious by nature reporters who were watching him, after a pause, Teri, the personals girl, stepped forward, she had just exited the break room, a cup of coffee in hand.

"Can I help you?" she asked gently, her cheeks glowing from the steam rising from her cup.

Slowly, as if his reactions had dimmed the man raised his watery grey eyes to look at her, he said nothing for a moment before his hand slowly moved behind his back, Cindy raised an eyebrow as she saw the muscles in his forearms tense, as if his fingers were closing around something.

Teri dropped her coffee cup, it shattered, its liquid staining the plush carpet; she stared, as did Cindy, as did everyone else…directly at the glinting .45, six shot, that marred their existence.

Cindy gulped, her eyes wide and her breath fast, for the first time in her life she couldn't hear the sound of the _tap,tap,tapping_ inside the building.

* * *

"Lieutenant Boxer." Lindsey said, slightly distracted as she sat on the corner of her desk, gazing down at the stacks of paperwork she was yet to file and stirring cream into her styrofoam cup.

"Better get down here Lindsey." Charlie Clapper was on the other end, and he didn't sound like his usual happy-go-lucky self.

"What's up?" Lindsey asked, putting her cup down and pushing the phone receiver closer to her ear, a frown creasing her face.

"We got an old fashion stick-up over here." He drawled and his voice sounded a little more distant as if he had turned away from his phone to talk to someone else, "two bodies already, prolly more on the way."

Lindsey sighed, resigned and opened her desk draw to snatch a pen and some paper, moving the phone so she could cradle it between her shoulder and her ear she spoke, "Well at least this time I don't have to waste time actually looking for the killer." She said tiredly.

"Pretty open and shut huh? Not really you style, I know, but the boss wants you." Charlie said with the smallest of hint of a smile.

Lindsey nodded, more to herself then anything, "Jacobi and I will be right over, just give me the address."

"It's 5th on main." Charlie replied, the words causing Lindsey's stomach to knot; she took a breath, every muscle in her body tense. "Charlie…" she asked slowly, "isn't that the Register building?" her voice was a whisper.

"Yeah Lins, it is, it's The Register building."

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End Prologue

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	2. 2nd Place

Disclaimer- same as previous

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A/n- Thanks for reviewing, **red lighting**, **homicide.chick**, **Alexandra-Casey-Olivia**, **alien-altered **and **andrea,** also, I thought that Cindy's building was called The Register but I couldn't see a single good reason to change it from the book (where it is The Chronicle) so thanks for letting me know, appreciate any helpful comments :)

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Chapter 2

"Bet this isn't where you saw your life going is it?" Claire asked rhetorically to the corpse laying on a large, long, and cold metal slab, the saw in her hand whirred and Claire had just slapped down the visor to cover her eyes when the buzzing of her Nokia ringtone interrupted the peace of the morgue, she frowned for a second, weighing her options, before switching off the saw and moving to her other lab coat, which was hung over the back of a chair, her cell phone in one of its front pockets.

Snatching up the small communication device Claire pushed it to her ear, "Washburn."

"Claire? It's Jill." Her voice was somewhat distorted by static as if she was bolting down a hallway or taking a set of stairs, "you need to stop whatever your doing and meet me out the front, now."

Assuming Jill might be exaggerating Claire cast a glance over at the body she had been about to examine, with a dry smile she replied, "This better be urgent, your breaking up my date."

"Claire no joke." Jill huffed, "Lindsey just called, there's trouble at The Register." Claire stood up straighter, frowning, "guys got a gun Claire, and Cindy's not answering her cell, if she's there she's a—"

"Hostage." Claire cut her off, her voice deep.

"Yeah, Luke needed to borrow the car this morning, I need you to drive me over—"

"Be right there."

* * *

"That's right, just chuck em' over there." The man Cindy still hadn't matched a name to gestured with his gun, waving it at the ground, the reporters stepped hesitantly forward to deposit their cell phones in the rapidly growing pile, Cindy had already dropped her Motorola and was now back against the window as he had instructed them to line up. In total there were seventeen others, all looking more nervous or scared then herself, after all, she had been to her fair share of crime scenes, she could only hope that this wouldn't be a homicide, a small shiver crossed her brain as she pictured Lindsey looking down at her corpse, Claire scalpel in hand.

"Now." She shook off the self-hating image her brain had conjured against her will and looked up as the man with the gun spoke; he was smirking snidely, leering at them. "I need some of you, preferably the honest ones," he snickered, "to go down stairs and retrieve a few of my things, things I didn't need to have been seen with before I could reach my target."

Cindy glanced at her hostages-in-arms, seeing if they had more clue to what he was talking about then she did, no luck. He raised the gun and the people assembled in front of him shied away, some closing their eyes, he grinned at them, moving the gun point along the line and back until it stopped. Cindy's breath halted as she stared down the barrel of a gun, the one pointing directly at her head, the one she had no control over.

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Jill clutched the leather side door to Claire's Camry as it tore around another corner; Jill braced herself with a wince and cast her friend a dry look, "You know red means stop." She commented sarcastically.

Claire glared at her, changing gears deftly, "In emergencies red means pause carefully."

Jill rolled her eyes as Claire took another corner and the assistant DA found herself leaning hard against the car door again, "You call this carefully."

"Quiet, we're here." The car screeched into the curb upon which people milled, talking on cell phones to one another and glancing up at the towering Register building.

Police had a ring around the front entrance(the others too), yellow tape was keeping people back and the occasional uniform stood in a semi-circle keeping those not wearing a badge as far away as possible.

Jill gave one her patented 'I'll sue your ass' looks to the nearest officer and he let them pass, there were a few police cars within the space from the crowd to the entrance, one of them to the far left, was Lindsey, having a conversation with an older man in a black water resistant jacket, they were mulling over a large piece of paper placed out of the front of a car hood, with what looked like blue prints across its surface. That's where Claire and Jill headed.

Lindsey looked up, cutting off her conversation as the sound of heels clicking on pavement sounded, "They pulled em' out Claire, had to, their over in the ambulance." She said pointing to her right.

Claire glanced across, putting down her large silver case, "Thought there'd be no need for an ambulance."

The man Lindsey had been talking to spoke first, "There wasn't one, we just couldn't leave them there lying in the way." For the first time Jill spied a good look at his back, across the jacket the letters S.W.A.T were printed in bold lettering. "You guys thinking of moving in?" she asked rhetorically gesturing to his jacket; it was more a ploy to see how bad things were then anything else.

He shrugged, "We don't know yet, the only visual we can get is of the back of the hostage's heads, no idea how much fire power he's got."

Jill rolled her shoulders and looked away thinking, while Claire spoke to Lindsey, "Do we know if Cindy's in there?" she asked,

Lindsey didn't look happy but she shrugged, "Maybe, probably, she's not answering her cell, and it's not like her to miss work, I tried her apartment, no luck." Claire nodded; aiming to distract her self she bent down and retrieved a pair of latex gloves from her kit.

"Wait." The S.W.A.T man said holding up a hand, "you know someone in there detective?" he looked aghast, "its bad enough your own boss palmed me off to a _homicide _detective and now I find out your compromised."

Lindsey barely resisted rolling her eyes, "You didn't get palmed off, the relevant guys are around, there doing other things, I was here, I'm helping, no compromise, I'm barley going to get involved."

Claire snorted and Jill smirked, '_yeah right,_' they were both thinking _'if Lindsey has any say in the matter she'll be breaking down the door herself, shooting the son-of-a-bitch.'_

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"You." The man snapped, forcing Cindy to move her unsteady legs into action and walk forward, he peered at her curiously before moving the gun back to the row of reporters and pointing at another woman, Katya Harding, who was shaking she was so frightened, she was the secretary of the room and knew her way around computers like a sailor on a ship. "And you."

Katya whimpered but after a gentle nudge from the man next to her, Ian Smith, she walked forward, the man smirked at them, again waving the gun around, "Here's the deal," he said licking his dry lips, "I need you to go downstairs, just before the guard station there's a room, I have some gear there that I need picking up."

Cindy tried not to show her surprise, why the heck would he send them downstairs, they could bolt at any moment?

"And if you don't come back, I kill four of your friends left behind." He sneered and Cindy's blood ran cold as he raised his arm so the gun faced the other hostages, who were now watching the two girls fearfully. "Understood?"

Cindy swallowed hard. Yeah, that was probably a good enough reason.

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End chapter

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A/n- I realise its highly unrealistic for Jill and Claire to just get through the crowd like that, but you can just go ahead and assume I didn't mention them flashing I.D. ;)


	3. 3rd Strike

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Disclaimer- same as previous

A/n- Thanks to **lillynilly**,** Alexandra-Casey-Olivia**, **homocide.chick** and **red lighting**. For reviewing.

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Chapter 3

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Cindy took the stairs one at a time, her hand lightly sliding down the rail as she and Katya cautiously made their way down the levels until they would reach the ground floor, Cindy's thoughts where travelling around in circles, like a hamster in a wheel, repetitive and never ending. Next to her on the stairs, Katya was glancing around nervously and rubbing her upper arms as if she was cold. "It'll be okay Katya." Cindy said softly, her voice echoing around the empty stairwell.

It was only their office that had been taken hostage, with the printing room, marketing floor and the various other sectors that made up the Register building completely empty, their former occupants somewhere safe on the outside, perhaps worrying about their comrades on the inside. "We'll do this simple like," Cindy continued, her own nervousness forcing her lips into action, "statistics say, if we do what he says, then we'll get out of this."

Katya turned, terminator like, to face Cindy, her eyes swimming with tears, her hands still rubbing her arms for warmth, she gave the tiniest of nods before facing the front again and turning on to the last set of stairs until they reached their destination.

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"Hey boss?" the sound buzzed from the radio clipped to the S.W.A.T front man, Rick Colatoni's, left hip, he jumped the slightest bit in surprise before unhooking it and holding it to his lips, pressing down a button on the top with his ring finger.

"What is it?"

Lindsey stopped peering at the diagrams of the layout to the building to look up and listen.

"We're watching the entrance; someone's just come down the stairs."

Both Rick and Lindsey's eyes widened and the pair immediately looked to the glass doors of the entrance, you could just see the front of the guards station, with the metal detector, and the guy on the radio was right, two people had just come into view.

"Sir?" the radio crackled.

Rick held down the button again, "Hold, something's not right about this, their not running, something's up."

Lindsey was squinting, trying to get a better look, the midday sun marring her efforts. The crowd behind them had noticed the change in everyone's behaviour and were now watching the doors too, whispering anxiously to one another, Claire who was sitting in the back of an ambulance preparing to get the two bodies of the security guards trekked to the morgue looked up as Jill stopped yapping into her cell, and turned away.

"What's going on?" Claire asked confused.

Jill chewed on the inside of her cheek, "Don't know," she put her cell phone back to her ear, shaking off the distraction, "I'll call you back." And before Denise could snap an insult, Jill slipped its face shut and the call was cut off.

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Cindy's worry increased as Katya stared at the door longingly, gently tugging on the fabric of the other woman's shirt, Cindy pulled her towards the door which had previously hid the reception area, but when security at the building had been upgraded to include a security check, the office had been abandoned for just an occasional place to chuck janitors supplies.

Cindy twisted the door knob with sweaty fingers before pushing it open and peering in; an old dingy desk with a large black gym bag on its top, another identical bag on the ground next to it, she swallowed and moved forward, unzipping the first bag cautiously, not noticing the Katya had frozen at the threshold of the door, not moving.

Her stomach dropped as she recognized the contents within the bag, explosives, a lot of them, along with some electrical equipment she didn't recognize but looked like it involved communications of some kind.

Cindy took a breath, crouching down in her heels to check out the other bag with similar results, breathing out the air hastily between her teeth she whispered, "We should go, don't wanna keep him waiting." She said with a hint of bitterness.

When Katya didn't reply, Cindy pivoted around, not straightening, Katya was staring out the door, back at the entrance, her finger nails digging into her palms nervously, "Katya?" Cindy asked cautiously.

Katya only blinked, still not facing Cindy, "We could just go." She whispered, as if not meaning to say that out loud.

Cindy shook her head, "We _can't_. He-he said he'd kill them if we didn't come back." She stuttered.

"He's gong to kill us any way Cindy," she whispered, still staring at the exit.

Cindy stood up, weighing weather she could talk Katya out of it and the consequences if she couldn't. Goddam it! If Jill was here she could have breezed thought this, she was persuasive for a living. Cindy was only good at sneaking into places she shouldn't.

"I told you, if we do what he says, that _won't_ happen." She stressed the word, as if half trying to convince herself, "but if you don't go back there now, he's going to shoot four of them, he's going to _kill _four people Katya." For a moment the guilt approach seemed to work, Katya turned her eyes away from the exit and stared at Cindy silently, her eyes still filled with tears, there was a pause.

_One_

_Two_

_Three_

Katya turned and bolted, running head first out the door, tears streaming down her face, not looking back.

Cindy's jaw dropped.

Fuck.

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End chap

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	4. 4th Siren

Disclaimer- same as previous

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A/n-Thanks to **Alexandra-Casey-Olivia**, **lillynilly**, **andrea**, **E.Christianna**,** A Lady of Paris**, **MathematicSunset** and **SG-fan.** For reviewing.

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Chapter 4

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Lindsey bit her lip, fingers wrapping anxiously around her Glock. Katya Harding was sitting in the back of an ambulance, tears cascading down her cheeks as the young woman sobbed, a medical blanket was holding her quaking shoulders in place and two ambulance officers were talking in low, soft tones, trying to determine exactly what had happened. Rick Colatoni stood next to Lindsey, his arms crossed, his small eyes narrowed at Katya, and if Lindsey hadn't see the look on her face as the young horoscope writer had fled the building then she would have held a little resentment to.

The gist of Katya's story seemed bad. Real bad. But when she had chocked out the words "Cindy" and "left." Lindsey's resolve to not call the girl a coward almost faulted, instead Inspector Boxer left the vicinity, walking as close to the building as the negotiated border allowed, before raising a pair of small red binoculars to her eyes and peering in.

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Cindy's body had stopped working. At least that's what she would have sworn if the steady rise and fall of her own chest wasn't a dead give away. Never the less, her brain seemed to be hibernating, her arm muscles, with no instructions to follow, fell limp to her sides.

She blinked a few times, like a engine on a 1940's backtracker, slowly her body came to life.

She was screwed.

She couldn't leave, but what did it matter now, the second she returned upstairs _four_ people would be shot._ Four_ people would be dead. If she ran now, took this maniacs stuff and left, would that put a stop to him?

_'But four people would die Cindy'_, her conscience nagged, _'four people and you're just going to let that happen.'_

Cindy licked her dry lips, she knew she had to go back upstairs, take him his stuff and prey to god he just let Katya go, with no sacrifices in return.

She was screwed.

Oh god, she was screwed.

* * *

"They were shot with a bolt action .45mm, Jill." Claire said, her voice deeper then usual.

Jill swung around to face her friend, turning her back on the harsh light that was afternoon in the windy city. "So?" she asked, knowing there was something more to that statement.

"45.'s an odd choice; it's not your run of the mill fire arm." Claire replied, looking around as a group of S.W.A.T men appeared from the backside of the Register building, Lindsey's unfortunate partner calling them over.

Jill looked confused, she knew there was some relevant information about that gun number that she should know, but it was failing to come to her, "So?" she asked again slowly.

Claire huffed, the air rushing from behind her perfectly straight teeth, "So that's bad, best case scenario he may have just found a dealer with a unique taste, very few shops stock those kinds, to much fire power for just home protection, the cops don't like it." She paused before continuing, delaying the moment and only finished speaking when Jill flipped her hands up as a sign to go on.

"Worst case scenario, he's military, they use 45's sometimes in the ops, military men don't just hold people hostage on a whim, he's probably pissed. Big time. And he's probably got a lot more fire power then we can see."

Jill breathed heavily, the strength seeping from her shoulders, she looked at Claire hopelessly before turning across the way and catching Lindsey's eye, 'it's not good' her expression read, 'it's not good at all.'

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One step.

Two step.

One foot in front of the other, Cindy took the steps one at a time, her shoulders heaving as she dragged the over laden gym bags up the stairs, a bead of sweat slid down the back of her neck, hitting her collar and sending a chill from the base of her neck all the way down her spine.

Finally she reached the landing of her office floor, the door half-way down the hallway stood like a burning ring of fire, she took a breath, the oxygen doing nothing for her.

She tugged the bags forward achingly slowly, the muscles in her arms twinging in protest as her adrenalin ran out and fear took over, turning the soft flesh of her arms in to lead weights, dragging her down.

After what seemed ages she was at the front of the door, just staring at the handle, unable to force her stiff fingers to work and turn the nob. She took three deep breaths, psyching herself up.

One

Two

Three

The frosted glass door opened with a exaggerated silence and slowly Cindy found multiple eyes on her, she could only stare at the owner of one. The man who held all their lives in his hands, smirked at her, his lip curling as he realised that there was only one in the door way. He shook his head with a cold chuckle as the reporters realised their sudden increased peril and shied away.

He looked at Cindy his eyes laughing at her cruelly. "Welcome back. I see we got a little lost along the way." He snickered.

Cindy swallowed.

He raised his arm and Cindy's body stopped working again.

BANG!

BANG!

Two bodies fell to the ground, blood splattering the window behind their unfortunate heads.

The snipers looking through their scopes pulled away, reaching for their radios. "Sir we've got shots fired. Two civilians down. Repeat, two civilians down."

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End chapter

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A/n- I apologise for any mistakes surrounding guns, but i live in Australia and the majority of my info comes from TV, that and when you try to research specifics all you get is a load of incorrect or vague answers, so i'm sorry if it bothers anyone.


	5. 5th Stepping Stone

Disclaimer- same as previous

A/n- Thanks to **lillynilly**, **andrea**,** Alexandra-Casey-Olivia** , **E.christianna**, and **MathematicSunset. **For reviewing, much appreciated, flames welcome.

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Chapter 5

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Everyone jumped at the exact same time. In unison all the citizens mulling about the square in front and the roads to the side of the Register building looked around in alarm, their eyes darting from side to side in search of the sounds origin.

_BANG!_

_BANG!_

Two shots, two shots that echoed loudly, an eerie silence starting at their end.

Lindsey's blood froze in her veins as the sniper's voice crackled over the sim-com, _'two shots, two victims, who was dead?' _she thought.

Rick was one of the first cops to react after the horrifying sounds that sent the crowd into buzz; he raised his radio to his lips and spoke, "Situation? What happening Snips?" his voice was crisp and hard edged and Lindsey hated him just a little bit more for that.

"Two down sir, fire seems to have stopped, no further contact." The snipers voice sounded like the vocal equivalent of someone squinting through a gun sight, trying to get a better look and Lindsey sighed, pivoting gracefully on her heels and searching the crowd of uniform workers for Claire or Jill. She found them together the next moment, in the back of an ambulance standing alert and not looking away from the glass windows high above.

Lindsey glanced around cautiously before slipping away, dodging emergency service personnel easily. Reaching Claire and Jill she answered their questions before they could ask.

"Two down, we don't know." She said with a shake of her head.

Jill pushed her lips firmly together, forming a thin line, her eyes were DA-like unemotional with only Claire and Lindsey being able to see through her perfected façade, she'd grown…accustomed to the intrepid reporter's presence within their circle and without Cindy chiming in her thoughts, it felt like Jill was a part of a triangle again, she hated triangles.

* * *

Cindy was shaking, her shoulders now brushing against two of her fellow hostages as she had been ordered back against the window, two of her co-workers, her friends were lying on the carpet in front of her and she had been forbidden from touching them, going to them, saving them, just like everyone else had.

Luc James was a 'notice writer', people often joked when they saw Luc walking towards them, that he was bringing bad news. He handled the obituaries, weddings, and legal notices all in one go, he had been the first to haze Cindy when she had started and the first to help her out when she had faulted. Now he lay on the ground mere feet from her, eyes open and glassy, a single grizzly wound right over his heart, red vines of blood were sliding down his shirt, splashing the carpet and dampening his jeans, Cindy swallowed, her moth dry, he was dead. And it was hurting her like bitch.

There was only one person who could give the dead man comfort and it wasn't Cindy. Taylah Jordan was on the ground next to him, her own blood spilling to the ground and mingling with her deceased friends, using precious little of the energy she had left, Taylah slid her hand across to Luc's limp one, squeezing his finger gently and allowing the tears to spill over her dark blue eyes.

Cindy's heart was screaming at her. Too bad her brain was frozen by the words, "Anyone even thinks about helping them and there will be a third body needing tending to." He had snarled at them before grabbing Cindy by the shoulder and throwing her back against the glass.

The man was now at one of their abandoned desks, going through his gym bags, the first thing Cindy had seen him remove was a large electrical piece she recognized from before, he placed it on the desk, straitening its position and admiring it before moving on and taking out more equipment, he hadn't even spared a glance for the two people he had just shot, unlike Cindy, who had barely been able to tear her eyes away.

The man on Cindy's left was watching them too, his fists clenching and unclenching as he stared at his employee's, Cindy's editor was her worst enemy and her best friend depending on the day of the week, but no matter when, Samuel Anderson hated it when someone fucked up, screwed his system around and created more work for others, and that was exactly what this son of a bitch had done to all of them.

Cindy saw her boss glaring daggers at the hostage taker, his perfect ,straight, white teeth gnashing together dangerously, quickly she caught his forearm. "Down Sam, don't be an idiot." She whispered hurriedly.

He stilled but looked bitterly across at Luc and Taylah again, unwittingly drawing Cindy's attention back to them, her stomach lurched again and she felt queasy, this was so different to being at a crime scene, she couldn't even think of one similarity.

Taylah was still fighting, her chest rising and falling unevenly, if Cindy had to hazard a guess she'd say he'd missed her heart but got her lung, badly. In the short few months she had spent filing away Claire's every word Cindy knew that was bad. She needed medical attention. Now.

"Excuse me." Cindy jumped slightly as the gravely voice of their attacker sounded, she drew her eyes to him and listened. "Hate to ask, but who wants to volunteer for my next task." He was smiling politely at them; the writer's desk now covered with various bits and bobs, the bulky electronical device was blinking a green light. "I have a few more errands to run, before this show really gets on the road.

Cindy gulped, she glanced at Luc's dead body, his wedding ring splattered red and Taylah, who's normally sparkling eyes were quickly losing colour.

_Show on the road._

How much fucking worse could this get?

* * *

"We gotta get some one in there, some line of communication?" Lindsey snapped, crossing her arms over he chest for warmth, the sun was sinking lower in the sky and a chill was rising from the ground, the crowd had dissipated somewhat, and Claire had been forced to leave an hour earlier, those bodies, those security guards, needed to be examined, Lindsey had already got Clapper rounding up their families.

Rick looked up at her remark, rolling his eyes dryly, "We've been ringing the phones in there off the hooks but he hasn't been answering, our best visuals haven't improved and we still don't have clearance to enter the building, red tapes screwing us all over, the boss won't approve a team to be sent in till we know whats waiting for us."

Lindsey bit the inside of her cheek and forced back a sarcastic reply which would just lower his opinion of her even more. Not that she cared.

Their radio's crackled again, "Sir we're there."

Rick snatched his radio and Lindsey atuned her ears, "Anything?"

"Visual's better, the CS scope gets us a pretty good view."

"What's there to see?" Lindsey noticed the anticipation bubbling in his voice, that same emotion making her fingers tingle.

"There's two vics down, only one seems to be still with us, there's a lot of blood." Lindsey and Rick waited on tenterhooks for the sniper to continue, "we don't have a clear visual on the assailant, but I can get a rough description of the civils that are down."

"Give it to us." Rick ordered.

"One male, maybe middle aged judging by the height and weight, light hair, light skin."

Lindsey licked her lips, waiting, "Second. Female. Young, small in general, dark hair."

Lindsey's stomach dropped, she closed her eyes slowly, it was general description, it was a ruff description, but it was close. Close was bad. Close was enough to scare her the hell out.

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End Chapter

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A/n- 'Cop speak' is the best I could get it, sorry if it's terribly inaccurate.


	6. 6th Regret

Disclaimer- Same as previous.

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A/n --Thanks to **RavennaNightwind****,****MathematicSunset****,****Alexandra-Casey-Olivia**,**lillynilly** for reviewing. Also the character Bunny is cannon, from '_5th Horseman_', so don't blame me for the god-awful name ;)

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Chapter 6

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Clair pushed the gurney further into her room, Bunny, her doe-eyed, dim-witted, assistant jumping to her feet as the chief medical examiner entered the room. "Just two standard slabs Bunny," Claire said off-handed, manoeuvring around to the centre of the room.

Bunny nodded quickly, bouncing into action, Claire watched her with an affectionate eye roll before the buzzing of her cell phone forced her to stop, she had instructed Jill to keep her updated and could only hope for good news.

"Washburn."

"How's it goin' on your end superfly?" Jill quipped over the line.

Claire shrugged to herself, "Only just got here, traffic was murder even in an ambo', how about on your end?" she asked as casually as she could.

Jill sighed heavily and Claire could picture her tossing her blonde head tiredly, "Some of the S.W.A.T guys managed to get a better visual, in a nutshell; we got one guy needing a draw in your lab and a girl not far off it."

Claire narrowed her eyes, Jill was avoiding the obvious question on purpose, "Details would be nice, am I goin' to know any of these people?"

"They haven't released names, there not _that_ great of visuals, but yes, one of the vics matches Cindy's description."

Claire sighed as Bunny finished setting up the slabs, only then remembering to slap on some gloves, Claire gave a small frown to her assistant before bidding goodbye to Jill and snapping her phone closed.

She looked down at the body bag containing security guard Sal Thresher, "Come on Bunny, let's get to work."

* * *

Cindy stood on shaky legs with the other chosen six who were all in a line just in front of the glass door; Cindy kept glancing back at the other hostages, seeing their anticipation, waiting to be left alone in the room. Cindy's group had drawn the short straw, their hostage taker was going with them.

He was currently on the other side of the door, a large ornate device sucked to the panels of frosted, hazy, glass and the handles, numbers and a key pad winked up at Cindy from their place on the bomb, the man made one last adjustment before shifting the bag on his shoulder and looking at Cindy and her group, "Lets head off then, lots to do." He waited until they had all filed out before shutting the door with a click; he leant to the keypad, tapped several keys in succession and then beamed, "As you were."

Cindy's hope flickered and died, she knew little about bombs but she had a feeling that if anyone except him tried opening that door then there would be one less lot of hostages to worry about.

* * *

The minute the doors clicked shut Samuel Anderson didn't even think of escaping, he knew there was no chance of that. He also knew a tension snap device when he saw one, if those doors moved even slightly without it being disarmed, they'd all being saying hi to kingdom come. Instead that star editor shot forwards, kneeling by Taylah's side, grabbing her wrist and checking her pulse, it was slow and uneven, but still there.

The advice columnist looked up at him through weak eyes and gently he cradled her head as the other reporters moved to them, "You're going to be okay Jordan, we'll get you outta here." He had adopted the cliché of calling his employee's by their last names a long time ago and he wasn't about to stop now.

"What can we do?" he asked, looking specifically to Jana Andrews, their financial whiz, she had worked four years as a nurse and SanFran Municipal and knew her way around sick people, she was always ordering the various reporters to go home when they turned up for work with one ailment or another.

The elderly, yet still sharp as a whip woman didn't reply, she only squeezed Taylah's hand and peered closely at her wound, "We can probably guess its missed her heart, she wouldn't be with us now, but there's no way her lungs got through unscaved," she sat up straighter on her knees and bent to whisper to Taylah, "sweetie can you take a breath for me? Can you breathe alright?"

Taylah struggled to do it, but managed it anyways and when she didn't cough and splutter blood Samuel saw the slightest bit of relief flicker over Jana's face, "Her ribs may have caught it, sent it glancing off, there's a chance that the lung doesn't have a gaping big hole in it, biggest stroke of luck any of us have had all day." She brushed some of Taylah's jet black hair off her sweaty forehead, "we're gonna do all we can sweetie, you just hold on for us."

She turned to the assembled reporters, "I don't want to do to much, case that S.O.B decides to make us pay for it, but there's little things we can do." She gestured to Sam, "We need to get her sitting up right, that'll make it easier for her to breathe, we need something thick and tight, some kind of material, we need to keep her chest as still as possible, that should also help with her bleeding." Her tone of voice was deeper then usual and had a commanding note that Sam admired, he was the first into action, pulling off his coat and holding it out, non-verbally asking if that was suitable, when Jana nodded, he tore the arms of the expensive coat without a second thought.

He tried not to look up when Susie Gallagher moved to Luc's body, her fingers slowly brushing his unmoving eyelids shut.

* * *

Cindy marched down the stairs with the others, feeling like a storm trooper, the hostage taker was in the lead, occasionally switching his gym bag from shoulder to shoulder, in his hand was the large electrical device from the desk upstairs, he was fiddling with the dial's on the front when they reached the ground floor, Cindy heard the crackling of static and distorted voices before he dropped the gym bags and pointed to two people, gesturing with his hand, he reached into the bag and withdrew a small, long, black box, like a mini-briefcase. He unclasped the lid, inside there were about a dozen small silver rectangular prisms, with little indents on one side, he carefully pulled one out and held it up, "You click it once, it's armed, there's no point in telling you how to disarm them because I'm not an idiot and it's a simple as that. As it is—" he tossed one to a gentleman reporter who caught it alarm, like it was hot. "It's not dangerous."

He peered around at them, like a teacher facing troublesome fourth graders, "I'll give you each a bunch and you place them where I tell you, if one of you doesn't come back then two of you dies, and a pattern will continue." her chucked the next small device to Cindy, grinning at her, "Ready to go?"

* * *

"There are people at the front entrance boss."

"We see em'" Rick growled, the generator lights that the fire department had put up about an hour ago lit up the Register building like a football field, Lindsey who was standing with Jill, who had left and then come back about ten minutes ago, didn't need the S.W.A.T mans prompting to watch the entrance, she saw two men, one slightly overweight and balding, the other painfully small and skinny, move cautiously to the massive front door, before crouching.

"Hold. Their civil's." Rick ordered.

Jill tilted her head, frowning; she alone seemed immune to the biting chill that had settled over the city, "What are they doing Linds?" she whispered.

But Lindsey was just as clueless, she shook her head, "No idea, but it can't be good."

"Those look like Pinches sir." A voice came over the radio.

Rick grunted, irritated, "Where the hell would he get his hands on those?" he growled.

Lindsey frowned, sharing a look with Jill, she stepped confidently forward until she was over his shoulder, "What the hell is pinch?" she asked.

He looked at her annoyed, "It's a bomb, a really small bomb that gives off a really big bang." When she gave him a unimpressed look he sighed and continued, "It's really easy to arm, not quiet so easy to disarm,you need to know the rhythm of the bombs to do it and you can only get that if you set em', they've got small movement detectors in them, once its been set you've got three and a half minutes to move out or you'll blow sky high."

Lindsey frowned she was starting the get the kind of headache usually found around Claire when she was describing some out-there cause of death, seeing her blank look Rick sighed angrily, "Its bad Boxer, real bad. Means we can't touch this guy. No matter how many people he kills."

* * *

End chapter

* * *

--


	7. 7th Heaven

Disclaimer- Same as previous.

* * *

A/n- Thanks to, **AquaInferno, nelle-fang ,MathematicSunset, Alexandra-Casey-Olivia**, **RavennaNightwind** and **lillynilly** for reviewing, there's a few name references to characters from the books, just in case anyone was wondering. :) As always flames and reviews welcome.

* * *

Chapter 7

* * *

The elevator didn't go down that far (even if there was power to run it), that's why Cindy was trekking downwards once more, her and Tye Silvani, a 'feature article' guy, he wasn't a news breaker, he wrote human interest stories and the like, and he was good at it too, however terrible his grammar was, he had won several awards, and he was also a bit of coward.

He was walking next to her, stumbling more like, down the stairs, his lips quivering, tears running down his cheeks, his hands were shaking bad, the small silver bombs or 'pinches' as Cindy thought they were called were moving more erratically then she would have liked, she held her hands out silently to him and after looking at her through watery eyes he dumped one into her palm, she smiled at him and nodded her head at the far window as the reached the abandoned basement floor, it was dusty and badly lit with only two windows, on either side, equal level with the pavement so if it was any other day you'd be able to see the heels of people bustling about through San Francisco.

Tye moved to the window on the left, leaving Cindy the right, she moved to hers faster then he did, giving her time to peer out the grimy window, she made a clear smudge in the dust so she could see better and spied several police cars closest to the building, with the crowd behind them, generator lights illuminating the scene, Cindy also saw several news trucks parked on the sidewalk. She snorted. _'Ironic'_

She looked at the small bomb in the palm of her hand, it glinted eerily, they had been instructed to put them at every entrance or exit, they were proximity mines, he would follow every pair of reporters he had sent off to check that they had set the bombs, Cindy waggled her fingers, staring down at the small device in her hand, Tye was waiting for her, sniffing at the base of the stairs. It was small, so small, small enough to fit in between her fingers without being seen, her pulse raced as her equally fast moving mind weighed up the potential consequence of what she was about to do.

The creaking of the top stairs announced another presence and Cindy's time was up. She decided in a flash, her hand snaking out to leave a backwards message in the dust that caked the window pane. The other hostages were behind their attacker when he appeared in the basement, gun in hand, Tye stood hastily aside and the killer glared at Cindy, she placed the pinch on the small dusty window sill, flicking her finger out once, just in front of the pinch, the killer swung on Tye, who dashed over to his sill and clicked his pinch once, hastily stepping away and back over to the group.

Cindy flicked her hand deftly, her heart pounding in her chest; it felt like it was pressing against her rib cage, if she was caught, she was dead. Simple as that. But the gunman didn't look back her way, he merely swung his gun in a gesture for everyone to move back up stairs, Cindy gulped as she moved to pass him, she had seen that gun so much in the last few hours she knew he had four shots left to kill her, four bullets left to kill her in one second, keeping her eyes deliberately down she felt him staring at her and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, she thought for sure he was going to bust her, if he turned around, checked again, Cindy held her breath and then…click, the door to the basement closed and their group moved on, Cindy waited until she was at the back of the group to slip the small unarmed explosive device into her pocket.

She had always loved magic as a kid, just another thing her dad had taught her. That and football. She could pull off the perfect illusion.

* * *

"Coffee?"

Lindsey deftly took the Styrofoam cup that Jill held out to her, the rising steam from the cup mingling with that of her breath, it was freezing and Lindsey didn't have a jacket, she shivered as she pushed the cup to her lips, "Triple caramel, don't tell Claire." She said softly.

Jill smiled, "Yeah well, I think chocolate death is something we could all do with right now." She joked.

Lindsey groaned, "Please don't use the word death."

Jill gave her a rye smile, sipping her own pure black coffee, "Sorry,"

"What's this I hear about death?" came Claire's dark voice, Jill grinned and Lindsey groaned again, the former turning around and offering a third cup she had snatched from Starbucks to the chief medical examiner, "Record time Claire," Jill smiled.

Claire took the cup with a shake of her head, "No disrespect to the families, but COD was pretty obvious, I think Bunny can handle it." She said.

Lindsey rolled her eyes, not looking at her two friends, "You let that girl near a knife?" she asked sarcastically.

Claire glared without replying, Jill shook her head, blonde hair getting kicked up in the frosty wind, Lindsey shivered again. Claire was just about to suggest she run to her car to retrieve another jacket when one slid over the lieutenants' shoulders, the girls looked up, Tom smiled at Lindsey softly, "You looked cold," he whispered.

"Well I can't feel my fingers anymore, but thanks, better late then never." Tom grinned with a shake of his head, as did Claire and Jill.

"Hour fourteen and we're still no where," Tom huffed, putting his hands on his hips and looking up at the Register building.

"We're at a stalemate until he tells us what he wants." Lindsey said softly, pulling Tom's jacket closer about her and sipping her coffee.

Jill was the first to say, "What if he doesn't want anything? He just wants to kill."

Lindsey shook her head, but Tom answered before her, "He wants something, if he didn't, then they'd be dead already and there'd be no need for the hostage situation, he would have just gone in there, all guns blazing, killing everyone in sight."

Claire interceded, "Okay then, how do we work out what to give him if he won't tell us."

Lindsey was quickest this time, "He's playing the waiting game, he's doing it on purpose, so the cops get ancy and the politicians start leaning on us to get the situation resolved, hopefully making us more likely to comply."

"And will it?" Jill asked.

"Will it what?"

"Make you more likely to comply," Jill repeated.

Lindsey shook her head, looking away from her friends, "We don't negotiate with terrorists. And as far as orders go, that what their calling this guy."

"So that's it, we do nothing. What if he just starts shooting until he gets what he wants?"

Knowing Lindsey would be unable to answer truthfully, Tom did, "We don't negotiate. That's the rules."

Silence settled over the small group

* * *

It was freezing inside the newsroom, standard procedure in hostage situations was to cut the power to the building and that had been done, leaving the room frosty without the heating ducts.

Taylah was shaking in Samuels lap, her head resting on his chest, the bleeding had been blocked and the only thing he could do now was keep her as still as possible, upright, she was struggling to keep her eyes open and Samuel was just about to start talking to her in hope of keeping her alert when the door opened again, the hostages and the still unnamed man entered, he had disarmed the bomb and they were free to move.

The reporters that had been left sat up a little straighter as their friends returned, slowly moving to the window, their attacker nodded, placing his weapon back in the waistband of his pants and taking a seat at the desk with all his junk on it, Samuel had given it a once over when the room had been semi-cleared, there were no weapons, at least ones he knew how to use, only a lot of high-tech gear and electrical junk. The man fiddled with the chunky radio looking thing had had taken with him and placed it back on the desk. Samuel heard crackling and the sound of voices; with a twist of a dial the voices became clear. They were cops and their every radio transmission was playing out into the room.

* * *

Cindy tensed as she heard the voices playing over the radio, she recognized some, Chief Tracchio, Richard Conklin and Chris Raleigh to name a few. If only they knew they were being overheard.

That wasn't a police scanner he was using, she should know, but it worked well and could pick up frequencies that seemed to belong to groups outside the SanFran police department, she had heard S.W.A.T terms a number of times

"Hey?"

Cindy looked up; that was the hostage taker speaking and he was looking right at her, Cindy's blood froze.

He sneered at her, pointing the gun at her like he was gesturing with a harmless stick or something, "I know you." He said.

Cindy didn't reply even when he stood up from his chair, walking over to her and peering down at her with a tilt of his head, "You do?" she said softly.

He snickered, "Yeah, your Cindy Thomas, that crime bitch." He grinned, "I think you can help me out."

Next second he raised his gun, his face not even flinching as he did.

BANG!

* * *

End chapter.

* * *

A/n- This should be the last update for a month or so, apologies for that. Busy time of year :) but this story will be finished.


	8. 8th Wonder

* * *

Disclaimer- same as previous.

* * *

A/n- Ha ha, I managed to 'borrow' someone's wireless just long enough to post this, thanks to all those who reviewed, your comments forced me to get this up. Hope you like it. As always flames and reviews welcome :)

* * *

Chapter 8

* * *

They flinched. Their heads snapping upwards making Jill's neck twinge.

BANG!

The sound echoed, for the third time, around the square, the pitch of the crowd lowering. Claire glanced at Jill who passed the look onto Lindsey, none of them said anything.

"What's going on up there?" Tom hushed, his hand unconsciously reaching for Lindsey's shoulder.

There was a crackle of static and Rick, who stood apart from the group, paused, his radio closer to his ear. "Someone's down boss."

Rick grit his teeth, shooting daring looks at anyone looking his way, including the three girls and Tom, "Who's down, Macaormack?" he hissed, his wind breaker jacket blowing wildly as another zephyr of wind passed through the square.

"Don't know sir, appears to be another civilian. Can't get con."

Rick sighed, closing his eyes tightly, irritated he snapped, "Keep me posted." And let his radio swing.

Lindsey took a breath and looked again toward the top of the building. The crowd began humming again, anxious friends and family worrying about their loved ones. Lindsey, Claire and Jill among them.

* * *

Cindy froze, the gunshot ringing in her ears. Her arms began to cramp at being held so stiffly. But that was it. There was no pain. She turned, slowly, her eyes following after her head like a robot. Jana Andrews stood staring down at her chest. Just gazing at the red stain flowering across her white blouse. No one spoke. Nothing sounded.

Jana touched her fingers to the wound and they came back red. She seemed to realise. Her body fell forward and everyone moved. Ted Rougan lunged forward, catching the mother of three in his arms, just before she could hit the ground. Cindy stumbled. Their attacker laughed.

Jana's face had turned white all the blood rushing from her usually rosy cheeks downwards and out the gaping wound right over her heart. She lay gasping for a few more moments until her breathing slowed and her bloodied hand fell to her side.

_Another shot._

Another death.

Everyone stared, Cindy couldn't tear her eyes away, a sharp burning stinging the back of her eyes and nose, the hostage taker grinned, "I said." He paused for effect. "No helping."

He gestured at Jana's still, lifeless body with the muzzle of his gun, "This is what you get for being a hero." He looked over a Taylah, still held gently in Samuels's arms; she glared at him, using all her strength to convey the sheer hatred she had for him. He grinned in response and turned away. Back to face Cindy.

"Now as I was saying," he smiled at her, "I think you can help me out. I'm looking for something in particular." Cindy gulped, her knuckles closing into anxious fists.

"What?" she whispered, her voice barley recognizable.

He smirked, "A particular author." He pointed to the door, "and you better hope you're not them. Now lead the way."

* * *

"Hey mum!" Claire grinned as Nate's voice floated out to her from the lounge room, it was late. Far too late for the boys to still be up, but Claire was too grateful for their presence to get angry at Ed. She tossed her jacket over the back of the lounge, momentarily blocking the TV from view as she kissed her two sons in welcome.

Ed smiled softly at her from his chair, remote in hand, the late edition of CNN playing on the screen. Claire kissed him softly, grateful to be where she was, "How you doing?" Ed whispered, gently rubbing circles on his wife's tired back.

"I'm great." She whispered, Ed smiling knowingly in reply.

"We saved you some pizza; it's in the fridge, if you want me to heat it up."

Claire shook her head, sitting on his lap and listening peacefully to the steady beat of his heart, "Maybe later…right now I just don't want to move."

Ed smiled, wrapping his arms around her and simultaneously lowering the volume on the TV a few notches, she deserved as much peace as she could get.

* * *

Jill dropped her keys onto the coffee table, and tucked the mail under her arm. Lindsey would be staying at the scene for a little while longer. But it was late and Jill had three deposition preps that couldn't be put off any longer, she walked into the kitchen, smiling sadly at the message on the fridge whiteboard.

_Had to go in, busy night it looks. Pile up on the freeway._

_Dinner's in the fridge. I cooked._

_Love you. Luke. XOXO._

Jill opened the fridge and removed the glad-wrapped plate, tossed it in the microwave and waited for the timer to count down.

She gazed around her apartment. Her and Luke's apartment, it seemed so large without the two of them there.

The small timer pinged and Jill tiredly picked at her meal with a fork before deciding to finish some work before she rang Lindsey, someone had to make sure the detective went home. Guess she was playing mother-hen tonight.

* * *

Lindsey sat in the passenger seat of Tom's car. The black SUV parked just inside the ring of police officers, he had decided that the temperature had dropped too low for them to remain outside and had dragged her to his car to wait. The heater was on and Lindsey had to admit it was more comfortable, but that didn't stop her from fidgeting every three seconds, readjusting her seat several times.

Tom was beginning to get annoyed at her constant movement; rolling his eyes he slapped her gently on the thigh. "Stop that Boxer!" he snapped.

Lindsey snorted, "Boxer?" she asked dramatically, completely un-chuffed by his 'lieutenant voice' "Since when is it Boxer? Hogan." She said, emphasizing Tom's last name.

Tom rolled his eyes, "Just—stop that." He stuttered.

Lindsey snickered, turning away from him and looking out the windshield again.

Tom crossed his arms and looked out his window. Suddenly things were a lot less comfortable in that car.

* * *

"I don't have the key." Cindy said, holding her hands up in front of her body, a feeble means of protection against the pissed off man holding a loaded gun.

He scowled at her, looking around the small side room that lead to the Registers archives, there was a small, tall sided, desk to the left of the room where usually there would be a worker with a clipboard and a key card. It was protocol that whoever entered the achieves signed in and out, with a list of any info that they removed. Today no one was there and the large silver door was remaining closed without a key to unlock it.

Not putting his gun down for a second, the man searched the desk, violently wrenching two draws open and flinging paper everywhere, this was the first time Cindy had seen him angry, he had always just been smug or cruelly amused.

She licked her lips and avoided looking at him, her mind rapidly scrolling through ideas to get this guy to talk. Cracking her knuckles nervously Cindy stayed silent when he stopped tearing the desk apart and looked at her instead, "We-we don't all get keys, there's one master key and that's it." She said slowly.

He sneered, his face twisting bitterly, "It couldn't be easy," he sighed as if the whole world was against him, "back up, back up." He gestured the gun at her several times and Cindy hastily retreated until her back hit the wall furthest away from the archive door.

He pointed the gun at the door, pausing for a second, aiming closely. Cindy held her breath, tensing her body.

BANG!

BANG!

Smoke curled from the barrel of the gun and that horrid sound echoed around the small room, he glanced at Cindy as she relaxed and shook his head. Two shots. He required the target and paused.

BANG!

There was a gaping hole half-way up the door, chunks of fibre-glass littered the floor, Cindy could see through a small gap into the other room.

Cindy stared at the outstretched gun in his hand her mind buzzing again, three shots. He had fired three shots. Three from now, three from before, that made six. Six shots. _He was out of bullets._

Cindy stepped forward hesitantly. She had heard Lindsey muse enough about shootouts and gun battles to know something about guns. She knew that Glock's had eight, 35's and 45's had six.

_He was out of bullets._

She took another step, his back was to her, he was peering at the door wondering if it would take another shot.

Cindy took a breath.

And he turned, the six shot gun swinging with him, Cindy felt a blinding flash of pain, a loud echoing sound roared in her ears, silence and then numbness as her body fell.

* * *

End chapter.

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A/n- There should be a longer wait for an update on this one too unfortunately, apologies. Also sorry for any firearm mistakes, my reasearch is still fruitless and i have no background knowldge.


	9. 9th Redemption

Disclaimer- same as previous.

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A/n- Thanks to, **nelle-fang , MathematicSunset, Alexandra-Casey-Olivia**, **RavennaNightwind, jenny, E.Christianna**, **A Lady Of Paris** and **mia66. **For reviewing**.**

* * *

Chapter 9

* * *

Wetness on her face awoke Lindsey early next morning, she grumbled and pushed Martha clumsily away with her hand, her room was filled with sunlight streaming in the window, between the curtains that she didn't pick.

Lindsey rolled out of bed (literally) landing on unsteady feet and stumbling into the bathroom.

After a shower, a change of clothes and some milk for Martha, Lindsey was on the road, she had got home at about 4:00 last night or technically earlier that morning, after two incessant calls from Jill and one idle threat of a marching home.

Consequently there were dark circles under Lindsey's eyes, and her driving was less then stellar, but none-the-less she made it to the Register building in record time, ducking under the tape with a small smile to Officer Cho.

Rick was there, infuriatingly, he seemed unaffected by the late hours and the pressure he must have been under, raising an eyebrow at Lindsey's sudden appearance he chose to snob her, turning back to a manila folder of paper and clicking his radio on.

Tom wasn't far from them, talking to a group of uniforms, when he noticed Lindsey he bade them good bye and strode over. "We have to go back." He said, not giving pause for greeting.

Slightly taken-aback Lindsey took a moment to answer, "Err…What? Why?"

Tom put his hand on his hips, slanting a subtle glance in Rick's direction, "This isn't the only crime happening in the city, SWAT—" he glanced at Rick purposefully, "has said they can take it from here, apparently we were only involved in the first place because of the two security guards and the need for extra man power." He didn't mirror Lindsey's pissed off expression but he scowled none-the-less.

Thinking quickly, Lindsey pointed to the building, which was now reflecting early morning sun off its high perched windows. "Our suspect is still in there, this homicide is still open."

Tom gave her a look, "Suspect? Really? Come on Linds, there are other crimes happening in this city, other victims who need our help." He said appealing to her soft side.

Lindsey closed her eyes, trying to think of a way to explain her need for being there without actually telling Tom that it felt like she was loosing her own daughter. Again. "I'll take it as holiday time then." She said, as a last ditch effort.

Tom shook his head, "If you did that, then you'd have to stay behind the tape."

Lindsey rolled her eyes, needling her fingers against her forehead in an attempt to forgo the headache that was coming on.

"Tom there's gotta be something we can do?" she asked. Her ex-husbands face softening at her tone.

"You're not going to like it. But I might have thought of a way." He sighed cryptically.

* * *

Cindy was surprised at how un-tired she felt, they had been combing through the Register archive for hours now, the gash over her temple throbbing worse with every minute that went by. She would admit it. Getting pistol whipper hurt. The valuable info that came from said injury however, was not something Cindy was about to complain about.

She had seen (however groggily) from her position on the floor the gunman remove another revolver from a strap at his ankle; he carried it safely while he reloaded the original pistol and returned it to its holster when he was done.

Depending on the amount of spare clips this guy had, he was clearly expecting a lot more killing to ensue.

Cindy rifled through another months worth of articles in search of the one he was seeking, a drop of blood fell from the cut on her forehead, splattering the pages.

The archives were built like a underground bunker, shelves upon shelves filled the room, on those were loads of old boxes with ageing issues of the Register, the categorizing system was out of wack thanks to years of indifference. He had given her the tittle of the article she was looking for, it was all he knew himself, Cindy guessed that it was the reason he was here, to find out the rest of what was in that article, and whoever wrote it.

As Cindy lifted another dusty box of papers down from the shelf, a loud exclamation made her stop. "Ha!" he stood halfway up the aisle of January 2007, holding a large fold of paper in his hand, gun clutched along with it.

He met Cindy's eye, an insane glint lighting his face, "I found it."

Cindy couldn't stop her curiosity from peaking, he had found it. Whatever it was that had started this mess. Question was, what lay in the article titled _'The Undeniable Selfishness Of Suicide.' _

* * *

"I heard about the Register."

Jill glanced up, spying Denise standing in front of her desk peering back at her curiously, arms crossed, pulling at the shoulders of her Armani suit.

"What about it?" Jill asked, looking back at her papers and crossing out another potential witness's name.

"Was your reporter friend there?" she asked, her eyes narrowing, to critique Jill.

Jill sighed, annoyed and stopped what she was doing, to lean back in her chair and meet Denise's challenge with her eyes, "What reporter friend?" she asked coldly.

Denise looked smug, her lip quirking, "Don't be coy with me Miss Bernhardt, we all know where Cindy Thomas gets the inside scoop from, anonymous source, yeah right." She snarked.

Jill glared, she was half pissed because Denise was half wrong, the rest, she was annoyed because of the tone of voice that Denise had choosen to be wrong in. "Cindy Thomas is a friend. That does _not _mean I would ever tell her anything that could compromise this office. And that does_ not_ mean that any info she comes across came from me."

Denise paused thinking before she replied, "Does that mean—" she asked using Jill's terminology, "that you don't care that they've just released the names of the hostages shot?"

When Jill's jaw dropped Denise figured not.

* * *

"Yeah I'm watching it now." Claire said into her cell phone, Lindsey had been giving her updates as long as she could stall her way to sticking around at the hostage scene and Claire had in turn been passing those on to Jill, but it had missed all three that the victims had been identified through hazy sniper scopes and employee records.

"Luc James, Sal Thresher and Nick Richards have all been confirmed to have been killed yesterday as a part of the Register hostage situation, their families have been notified. Another woman believed to be, 'advice columnist' Taylah Jordan has reportedly been injured as well but her family has as of yet been unreachable, if the public can help at all in this matter the number to contact is at the bottom of the screen right now. It is as of now unconfirmed to the identity of a suspected fifth victim."

Jill ran a hand over her chin as she watched, thinking, Denise stood behind her, watching her reactions carefully, that very DA like curve on her lips.

"He's not worried about hurting anybody is he?" Jill sighed, her voice heavy, almost hoping that Claire would contradict her with some scientific knowledge.

"That means he's not worried at all, death penalty, nothing. Something's gotta change Jill. We gotta win a hand." Claire replied, the static of the lines not masking the fierceness in her voice.

"How? When our cards are so low." Jill replied, softly, Denise tilting her dark head at the odd sound.

"They'll think of something, Lindsey, Tom, this can't go on forever." Claire replied, certainty clear in her voice.

"And if they can't." Jill countered, eyes glancing away as the images on the screen changed to that of a field reporter on the scene.

"Then we will." Claire replied her voice not faltering for a second.

* * *

"There's no way in hell your trying to pull that on me lieutenant!" Lindsey's expression didn't change, her arms staying firmly crossed as she watched Tom stand-off against the prickly S.W.A.T agent. Ricks face was inches from Tom's, scarlet slowly rising up his neck in rage.

"They got pinched, common for accomplices in this kinda job." Tom said evenly, not backing down. "We gotta entertain the theory, the tip came in, we have to follow it up, if either of the security guards were involved in this, it means a whole lot more trouble for you. We could be talking vendetta killings." Tom let his arms fall to his sides but he didn't relent, even when Ricks eye's bulged, his teeth gritted.

The S.W.A.T leader snarled, "An anonymous tip. These cowards are like fly's to controversy!" spit was flying from his mouth and Lindsey cringed for Tom, "Do you really want to do this to the families of those two men?"

Lindsey saw it. The flicker and she knew the next thing out of Tom's mouth would be a half-truth, "I don't care about that. I care about solving this multiple homicide before it escalates further."

Lindsey glared, before Rick could get another word she seized Tom by the arm and hauled him away fro a private chat. "You set this up." She hissed. "There was no tip, no one ever suggested those men were involved in helping this psycho."

The flicker.

"You wanted us to stay here and now we can." He said shortly.

Lindsey glared, "Their families—" she was cut off.

"Their families will never hear a whisper of it, it's a silent investigation as far as I'm concerned and we can trust the lawyer not to say anything. We pretend to investigate this tip and later the ramifications will just mysteriously disappear."

Lindsey watched him closely, "Jill?"

Tom shook his head, "We needed someone with a little bit more…influence." He whispered glancing around.

Lindsey thought.

"Denise." She stated.

Tom didn't need to say anything for the brunette to know she was right.

"I called in a favor. She volunteered to help."

Lindsey gave a sarcastic snort and looked away, "Better notify Jill, the ice bitch has thawed."

* * *

Minister Aaron Winslow sat with his hands clasped at his desk, listening to the beat up radio blurt out the news on the hostage situation. The very same hostage situation one of his dearest friends was stuck in the middle of, but after all, that was in Cindy's nature. To be in the middle.

He whispered a prayer, hoping on hope for her to be safe, hoping for at least one more time to sit with her and listen to jazz.

* * *

End chapter.

* * *

A/n- The show here in Aus appears to have been canned, so I'm sorry if anything I write contradicts with the new episodes. Also Aaron Winslow is not important to the story, he's just a small cameo from the books where he was Cindy's part time boyfriend and full time friend. He also saved her life.


	10. 10th Loss

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Disclaimer- don't own, don't sue.

* * *

A/n- Okay this is where things actually start to get interesting and come together, so sorry for the long build up. Not a lot of Cindy this chapter either but I promise there will be later. I just need to establish the rest of the plot first.

* * *

Chapter 10

* * *

He stared down at the sheet, the article, for once he seemed completely unaware of her presence, Cindy's head gave another throb as his lips parted and he began to whisper the words on the page.

"'Bullies, thugs, monsters in backwards caps, call them whatever you call them, but they are the catalysts for this horrible act, they start the chain of events, they are the spark to the fuse, they light the fire under the victims and allow them to steadily blow up." He swallowed and Cindy saw tears swimming in his eyes, she felt a pang deep in her heart and another in the cut on her head.

He licked his lips and looked up at her, for the first time there was no malice in his face, his hand shaking, he held out the article to her and with ginger, traitorous hands, she took it, her, somewhat obscured by blood, vision, drinking in the ink on the page.

'Someone needs to save these people, save them from themselves and from the villains who put the gun in their hands…'

* * *

"The mayors here." Tom said with a shake of his head and a disgruntled snort.

Lindsey rolled her eyes, "We don't have to worry about him." She snarked.

Tom gave her a dry look, "Yeah cause, if he only fires me that's all right." He said sarcastically making Lindsey glare his way.

"That's not it." She said with a shake of her head, "but if he tries to get in the way, I'll be forced to make the headlines all about him in stead."

Tom raised an eyebrow in scepticism but he knew that tone and therefore knew that Lindsey wasn't exaggerating, "You just wanna leave me hanging?" he asked.

Lindsey gave a small smile, "Let's just say that Cindy was telling us all about this high class ball she snuck into one night."

Tom looked confused, he gestured with his head as a sign to go on.

"And lets just say that, at said ball, Cindy may or may not have walked in on a certain politician on top of someone elses wife."

Tom laughed loudly, letting his head fall back; circumstances as they were, Lindsey hadn't smiled properly in days so it was a surprise when she felt her teeth show.

* * *

Jill jumped when the paper bag dropped into her lap; she quickly spied her boyfriend standing over her, a cheeky smile on his lips.

"Hey," she hushed, opening the bag and smelling cinnamon, she smiled at the sight of the donuts.

"Sugar cures all." Luke smiled gently, leaning one hand on the back of her chair and the other on her desk.

Jill tilted her head back so she could get a better look at him, "Isn't it just a wonder how you passed medical school." She teased, her shoulders feeling light at the sudden lack of lead emotions weighing them down

Luke pouted, "That's my professional medical opinion."

"Well in that case." Jill grinned, standing and wrapping her arms around his neck, "I'm feeling terribly ill doctor." She kissed him. "And now its all better."

Luke smiled sadly as he saw the darkness return to her eyes, "She'll be fine Jill," he whispered.

She swallowed, avoiding his eye, "What if she's not, I don't think I could take that, and I can't figure out why." She shook her head as if she was laughing at herself.

Luke kissed her lightly on the nose, "And who says you'd be a bad mother." He joked.

"Me." Jill whispered.

"Clearly not."

* * *

"Death by exsanguination. Ouch." Bunny chirped, looking down at the corpse with a curious air.

Claire glanced at her dryly, "In a nutshell." She quipped.

"I'd hate to die like that." Bunny said with one of her rare hints at something more deep.

Claire peered at her carefully, "I've see worse." She said slapping off her gloves and tossing them into them 'biohazard bin'

"Yeah, but still." Bunny said softly, almost nostalgic, "imagine laying there, watching your life slip away, its odd to think of someone taking blood for granted, but hey," she shrugged, "there ya go."

Claire thought about it for a moment, "That won't happen to you Bunny."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because it doesn't happen to most people, it's only those unlucky few who know to much, say too much or have a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Bunny paused, flipping her head, "Well…I certainly don't know too much." She joked.

Claire laughed, smiling genuinely at the girl and ignoring completely the fact that the three traits she had just described all belonged to only one person she knew, one person she couldn't ever imagine taking life for granted.

* * *

Cindy was dizzy and she couldn't fully blame the pistol-whip and its resulting concussion.

'Suicide effects all and the people who commit such an act seldom think of this or maybe perhaps they think that it won't hurt anyone else. Because that is what themselves have been told. That nobody cares.

Suicides are tragedies, nothing more, noting less, if your unlucky enough to be one of the ones left behind you know. Because you are affected by the choices of someone else, someone you care about. And you are powerless to stop them.'

It was a small extract from the whole article but it stuck in her mind, her pounding, over worked mind, he sat across from her silently, gun hand resting in his lap. "My son killed himself." It came out as a whisper and Cindy didn't know if she was supposed to hear it.

"I found that." He gestured with the gun at the article. "in his room, it was the closest thing to any kind of explanation, most of it was ripped off, the author, the details, most of the print, all I knew was that it came from, The Register-" he looked at her and his eyes steeled again, "it came from you."

"None of you understand the power you have, do you? He read that article and decided to jump. He thought you were blaming him. As if it was his fault." His voice was rising in pitch and Cindy sat more alert in her chair, alarm bells going off in her head. "as if he wanted it to happen. As if he was as bad as them. As if he wanted to hurt people." He stood up, his eyes wild and his fists shaking in rage.

Cindy swallowed, held up her hands, she stuttered "That's not--that's not what it meant—that-that." She couldn't finish for the hatred that was now burning in his eyes seemed to have stolen her breath.

"You blame him, rather then the real reason, those little bastards who caused everything." There was a mad gleam in his eye and Cindy was afraid, "I'm not just going to teach you." His voice became eerily calm, "but I'm going to teach everyone, and teach them to see who are the real culprits here." His voice was insanely calm, "I don't care how many of you i have to kill." Cindy felt her head give another painful throb as she thought of the face in the by-line photo, the cool, calm, collected face. The face of her some-times friend. The face of Tye Silvani.

Feature-article extraordinaire.

* * *

A/n-Here's hoping that you actually remember who Tye is, cause otherwise…err, I haven't done my job very well ;)


	11. 11th Hour

Disclaimer- Same as previous.

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A/n- Thansk to all those who reviwed, a much quicker update because in my opinion the last chapter sucked, hopefully this makes up for it.

* * *

Chapter 11

* * *

Taylah was cold. Her teeth were chattering, the wisdom teeth in the back of her mouth aching, Samuel held her tighter, she wondered how long she had been there, she was starting to get tired, starting to slip away, she tried to force her numb, blue lips into working but only a mumbled sentence came out, "Cindy…Sam…where's Cindy?"

The editor looked down at her, took a breath and noted how her eyelids continued to droop, "She'll be back soon Tay, we'll be getting outta here soon."

Taylah murmured and shifted in his arms, wincing as she pulled at her wound, "That's the plan," she whispered.

There was an eerie silence that seemed to drag and Samuel felt himself fading into fatigue when there was a creek of glass and the entrance doors swung open. The remaining reporters sprung to attention, looking up with anxious eyes, Cindy entered first, her back arched slightly forward, the cold steel of the gun jammed between her shoulder blades, Samuel tried to catch her eye but she was looking directly ahead, she seemed tense, desperate, Samuel followed her line of sight, Tye sat not far from them, huddled against the window, tear streaks down his rounded cheeks, he noticed Cindy's demeanour as well and his shoulder's tensed.

The intrepid girl reporter opened her mouth to say something when she was suddenly shoved aside, sent crashing into a desk with a bang. Samuel winced and shot her a curious look, her eyes spelled helpless.

The man with the gun strode forward, not looking away from Tye, an insane glint in his eyes, his lip curled maliciously as he snatched Tye by the arm and hauled him over to the gym bags, he gestured coldly with the gun. "Stay." He spat.

Samuel jerked his head and Cindy slid over to them, watching Tye urgently, Samuel whispered to her, "What's going on?"

She hesitated for a second before replying, shooting another glance at the now stricken looking Tye, who stood rooted to the spot. "You remember that piece Tye did a while back? The suicide piece."

Samuel nodded, readjusting the drowsy woman in his lap before answering, "Yeah, it got a few nominations, what about it?"

Cindy looked at the killer and there was something akin to sadness in her eyes, "His son killed himself, after reading that article, he carved their names—" she paused as the gunman removed something bulky from the gym bag, it looked kinda like the Kevlar Lindsey wore on raids but with more wiring and high-tech attachments. Cindy licked her lips anxiously before continuing in an even softer tone, "he carved these names, four or five of them into his arms before he jumped, according to his dad they were," she paused to think of the right word, "his 'tormentors' the dad got talking to the school councillor, apparently it had been going on for months all from the same kids, they just didn't leave him alone. But there was nothing the school could do, there was no direct violence."

Samuel frowned, his brow creasing, "So why here? Why take this place hostage, not that I'd prefer he'd take over a school, but that'd seem more logical."

Cindy shook her head and Samuel noticed a dazed look in her eye, she couldn't be feeling to well, "I don't know, but there's more to this then I've told you. I know there is."

There was a screech of Velcro and the pair looked up, Taylah mumbling more nonsense. Tye stood, his body shaking, as the gunman strapped the sort-of body armour around his chest, adjusting the straps, he grabbed several wires and connected them to a set of small plastic ports on the front. He smiled satisfied and turned to look at the reporters, more specifically at Cindy, before tearing down a Velcro strap at the front and revealing what was quite clearly an explosive. Now fully wired up.

He smiled giddily, "Class is about to begin."

Cindy gulped. Her head throbbed. Tye Silvani had just been fitted into what was collectively know as a 'bomber's jacket.'

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Lindsey asked curious, crossing her arms as Jill slipped from her slick BMW and under the police tape with a nod to the uniform.

Her heels clacked on the pavement as she approached, "Court got out early, Judge Snider dismissed more then usual."

"Think he's feeling all warm and fuzzy inside?" Lindsey joked, Judge Snider was number two on Jill's list, after Denise, he seemed to have an unusual sympathy for the defendants and the fact that when he talked to her his eyes were on anything but her face was just the icing.

Jill looked at her dryly, "I haven't seen him kick any small defenceless animals lately," she quipped.

Lindsey grinned, "Normally you spend unexpected time off with Luke. What gives?" she asked, watching her closely.

Jill looked almost offended by that and looked away from Lindsey, "it's not everyday your friend gets held in a hostage situation. Do you not want me here." She asked with a challenge.

Lindsey decided to cave and grill her for her deeper feelings at a later date, she held up her palms in defence and smiled, "No, no, conversation with someone other then Tom would be nice."

Jill took her chance to turn the tables, "So you guys have progressed from the longing look phase."

Lindsey glared as Jill lead them to walk closer to the Register building, "It wasn't a phase and…yes we have progressed, he's actually been great, he did good, finding a way to keep us around here."

Jill looked at her closely before smiling teasingly, "Like he coulda' kept you away, your like a mother hen with that girl." She joked.

Lindsey gave her a look, smug and doubtful, "Takes one to know one Jill." she replied.

Jill eye's became clouded and she gazed into the sun up at the towering building. "Yeah…" she held her breath, "Luke said the same thing."

* * *

"You do as I say. You'll get to live. Understood?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, looking at Cindy, she swallowed, she couldn't do it again. She just wasn't up to it.

Tye whimpered, tears now running down his cheeks, he stared at Cindy with eyes begging for her not to leave him. To save him. She couldn't do it again, but she had to.

She looked at the gunman and nodded slowly, "Yeah." She whispered.

He smirked and took her by the arm, grabbing Tye in much the same way, he looked at the remaining reporters, "Feel free to watch from the windows, I'd prefer it if you all saw this." He shoved Cindy towards the door and glared at Tye, "Get moving." As they trooped forward Cindy slipped her hand over Tye's shaking fingers. If she hadn't gone, there would have been nothing she could do. And now that she had…there was still nothing she could do.

They were gonna die.

* * *

End chapter.

* * *

A/n- Because I don't think I wrote it very well, I'll just mention it here, there's a reason Jill is acting how she is, something from a while back. Brownie points if you can guess it from the hints I've tried to give :)


	12. 12th Night

Disclaimer- Same as previous

A/n- Thanks to all those who reviewed, i owe you everything. **Note**: This chapter is where the conclusion begins, it is slightly more violent and dark from here on in, nothing graphic of course, just a bit depressing, so this is your warning, the intention is not to offend anyone, if it does, my sincerest apolgies.

* * *

Chapter 12

* * *

"He's coming out."

Those words acted like a proverbial electric shock, running its way through the crowd, people stood to attention, whispers broke out and Lindsey and Jill turned as one towards the gaping front doors, bodies appeared at the entrance, and the police radios crackled into life. Every single one of them.

"I'd hold your fire if I was you, I'm coming out with two hostages, if you want me to return with none, that's fine with me."

Lindsey glanced anxiously at Rick to see him nod the order just as Tom appeared at her shoulder whispering hurriedly in her ear, asking what was going on. She shushed him and the three waited with baited breath.

The dark shapes that were people reached the glass doors and Lindsey's stomach dropped. Cindy was there.

There was another man she didn't recognize, standing directly behind Cindy with an arm looped around her neck, the other, pointing a glinting revolver at her temple where a grizzly gash already stood out. The man jerked his head upward and the third member of their party opened the door and walked out, his legs trembling, the second he was close enough the entire police presence recognized the extra hardware he was packing. _'Bomber Jacket'_

Cindy and her captive moved after him, until all three stood in the centre of the police, silence reigned, with only the occasional sound of traffic disturbing the peace.

The gunman seemed to have decided he was safe and nodded to the 'bomber jacket' man again, who stumbled forward, making everyone tense, the gunman had on a snug headset and used that again to take over their radio's, his voice echoed in the square.

"Good, I'm glad everyone's sticking to procedure," he nodded almost gratefully at Rick, who grit his teeth in reply, "I'm here to make a demonstration, it seemed we were at a bit of a stalemate back there and I thought now would be good time to turn the tables." He glared at the man in the jacket, who whimpered and then with jelly legs took another several steps forward.

Cindy jerked her head in a pained response and Lindsey put her hand on Jill's shoulder, the small movement attracting Cindy's attention, as was the intention.

Cindy met Lindsey's eyes and mentally begged her friend to read the silent message. _Run. Run. Get the hell out._

"What do you want sir?" that was Rick, using the same frequency as the gunman, who smirked at the question, pulling Cindy closer to him.

"I want to prove a point; I want to set a principle. And you can help me do that."

Rick licked his dry lips and Lindsey continued to stare at Cindy, searching for any kind of signal besides the building sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. "And how can we do that?"

"Well first…" the gunman paused, a smug teasing look on his face, "you can tell those snipers you currently have aiming at the back of my head to put their guns down."

There were small gasps from the crowd and despite that fact it wasn't such a big stretch to assume he was being held in cross-hairs it still suggested inside knowledge to those at large.

Rick looked away and the gunman continued again, signalling for the bomber man to move further away, Cindy reacted adversely again and a theory began to form in the back of Lindsey's mind.

"Because I assure you, if they pull their triggers a whole lot more people are going to die then just me."

Lindsey had no doubt. The force of the bullet would go right through him and into Cindy; she shot another anxious look at Rick, distracting herself from her previous train of thought.

"Likewise if you wanna try anything else, because when that young man in front of us goes bang, it'll rattle Miss Thomas here with shrapnel rather then me," he chuckled, pressing the gun barrel hard into the cut on Cindy's forehead making Jill clench her teeth and fists. "And the last place you wanna commit mass, involuntary manslaughter is out the front of a newspaper office." He said in a laughing tone, putting everyone else on edge just that little bit more.

"Your getting off topic sir." Rick said in a firm voice, tweaking something in Lindsey's brain. "And the only reason you'd do that is to distract us, so how about you tell us what you want and then I can go about getting it for you."

The gunman smirked and aimed the gun at the bomber man, who hastily took another several steps closer to the police. '_Closer to the police.'_ Lindsey's eyes widened and her jaw dropped, he wasn't trying to distract them, he was trying to prolong them into compliancy, afterall, if he was actually going to blow his 'bomberman' up he would have done it right away and if he didn't, that would give them a false sense of security. Which was the intention. _'Oh god.'_

She swung on her heel, "Get back!!" her throat ached at the strength of her voice, but only when she grabbed Jill and threw her back into the crowd, people began to get the message, she managed to get a look to Rick just in time for him to connect to dots.

"Run!!" he bellowed. And everyone listened. Police grabbed civilians and everyone bolted, Tom snatched Lindsey's hand, he pulled her away as she wrenched her neck back to look at Cindy one last time.

The redhead met her eye and yelled something, her eyes pleading desperately for Lindsey to understand. Just as the man in front of her exploded into a million pieces.

_Boom!_

The street rocked, cement cracked and Lindsey felt the searing heat on her face, she was half crushed under Tom's weight as he threw himself and her to the ground, her ear drums almost burst, the force of the blast making her insides feel like jelly.

The explosion stopped, but the screaming continued, Lindsey lifted her head, squinting in the direction of the gunman and Cindy, they were gone. '_What had she yelled?'_

It was bedlam around, people were still fleeing, the injured were being helped by panicked others, smoke and chocking smog grizzled the air, police cars had been pushed back, the doors and sirens coated in thick black soot. Glass scattered the pavement from shattered windscreens and windows.

And in the centre of it all, there was a hole, just a gaping dint in the concrete, where moments ago a healthy, albeit, scared young man had stood, his shoulders quaking.

_He had been blown to smithereens._

Lindsey pushed Tom off her, he had taken the brunt of the force and was more rocked then she. Lindsey searched the crowd, gently pushing aside crazed bystanders, searching.

There was Jill, the furthest back because she had been the first to react to Lindsey's yell, because she hadn't waited for Rick to shout, because she had trusted Lindsey's word and bolted.

She was huddled behind a news van, her hair out of place and mussed, mascara down her face in streaks of tears, Lindsey crouched next to her and hugged her as tightly as Claire would have, had she been there. Jill sobbed into her shoulder, and Lindsey did her best to sooth, her addled brain still in over drive.

'_She'd yelled something.'_ Just before the explosion. Cindy had know it was coming, so what ever she had said had been important, but what had it been? What had she yelled?

And more importantly, would she be alive enough to ever tell Lindsey again, because as the dark haired detective looked over the hell around her, the injured civilians, the screaming women and the soot smudged police officers she wondered how in hell Cindy could have come out of that unhurt.

Because after all that's why he had brought her. Human shield.

Lindsey thought about it and came to a conclusion.

There was no way.

There just was no way.

* * *

End Chapter.

* * *

A/n- Computer faults have caused all the chapters after this to be deleted, so there are no new chapters, apologies, I'm doing my best to recover them, wish me luck and I hope you liked this chapter, I promise I will try to post again. :)


	13. 13th Unlucky

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Disclaimer- Same as previous

A/n- Thanks to those who reviewed. More plot based stuff in this chapter, sorry 'bout that.

* * *

Chapter 13

* * *

Cindy collapsed on the stairs, a cry escaping her lips as her bloodied hands clutched at her bloody leg, she couldn't walk on it, her jeans were ripped and the skin beneath was torn and grizzly.

He was on the stairs above her, his Kevlar armour (also from the gym bags) was damaged and dented, but he was in far better shape then her. Cindy's ears were ringing, her head was pounding and her chest felt like it was stacked with cinderblocks. Her skin on fire.

Insane laughter rang from above her and she hated him even more, as he continued to cackle, "Damn bitch cop. Homicide detective and she has to get in my way." He coughed loudly before chuckling again, "Had to go fuck everything up."

Cindy closed her eyes against the pain, in a vain attempt, before pushing up on her forearms and staggering to her feet, hopping on her one good leg, she coughed and clutched her stomach, it wasn't as bad as she had first thought, they had got pretty much back to the protection of the building by the time it went off but she still felt like hell on legs.

He stumbled to his feet still with a bloody smile on his lips and leaned against the stair rail for support, his gun was still gripped uneasily in his hand and the look he gave her suggested she shouldn't try anything, he fumbled with his headset which had fallen around his neck and was largely not as sleek as it had been, he fiddled with it for a moment, calling several times for a response when one finally came through. Cindy recognized the voice.

* * *

"You better stop this transmission you son-of-a-bitch!" Lindsey bellowed, Jill still at her feet, tears leaking down her face.

"Careful detective, language like that might get some hurt." He puffed with a smirk.

Lindsey snarled, sirens replacing the ringing of the bomb in her ears. "Tell me what you want! You don't just go blowing people up for no reason! Tell me!"

He laughed again, unstably; Lindsey was pleased to hear he didn't sound too healthy. "Peter Ross, Aden Hunter, Nicole Franklin and Mike Tovy." He took a breath, "that's what I want, I want them here within an hour, delivered to my doorstep within 60 minutes or I start shooting." Suddenly he seemed calm, "I'll kill one person every hour that passes. That is what I want detective." And before Lindsey could reply he disconnected and static hissed through the line. Lindsey dropped her radio, feeling physically ill. She looked down just as Jill met her gaze, "Linds?" she whispered.

Lindsey collapsed, sitting cross-legged on the pavement next to her best friend, she scoffed. Beat. "I don't know."

* * *

"Well besides Tye Silvani, no-ones actually dead, most of them are just in the hospitals, how many of them will make it past that. No idea." Claire crossed her arms, pulling at the shoulders of her lab coat, Bunny was across from her, sitting on an unused slab, swinging her feet back and forward like a six year old. The irrepressible blonde bit her lip, "Is dad alright then?" she asked.

Claire gave a small smile and nodded, Bunny also happened to be the mayors daughter, "That would have been one of the first mentioned, he's fine."

"And Jill? Lindsey?"

Claire looked up, surprised, she hadn't expected Bunny to have noticed that the four women were friends let alone ask about their current condition, she hesitated, "Their fine, seems Linds was the first to catch on to it, they were outta there pretty fast."

Bunny nodded simply, "Good."

She paused before continuing, "You should go down there, check for yourself."

Claire blinked, shocked again, "I can't, I just said there's gonna be a lot of work here soon. I can't just—"

"Yes you can." Bunny snapped, with a roll of her eyes, "I can handle it. And if I can't then I can at least stall my way through until you get back. It's the good thing about bodies, they never go anywhere." She looked almost sheepish by the end of her speech and avoided Claire's gaze.

But she shouldn't have worried, Claire grinned, feeling a swell of affection for her young assistant. "That's the_ best_ thing about bodies." She winked at Bunny before scooping up her keys and striding to the door, pausing only to say "You have my number." Before exiting and leaving the blonde surrounded by the deceased.

* * *

"Charlie who are these kids?"

"There nobody."

"Nobody?"

"Nobody special that is." Charlie replied from a land line at Hillcrest Public School, "There the school bully's it looks like. But they ain't bad kids Linds."

"How do ya' figure?" Lindsey replied tersely.

"All this stuff happened back a few years ago, when they were freshmen, they've moved on, grown up. Their good kids now."

"I don't think Stuart Macalister would agree with you." Lindsey said irritably, "That is his name isn't it?"

"Teach' reckons so, he was really the only one they picked on constantly, I got Brenda running a screen on his dad Carl."

"What do ya' think he wants em' for Linds?"

Lindsey sighed, "What do you reckon Charlie?" she asked heavily.

"We ain't gonna?"

"'Course not Charlie. Just get your hands on those kids, let's see if they know something that can help, if they really have reformed then they'd want to fix this."

"Sure thing Linds, I'll get back to ya'."

"Thanks Charlie."

Lindsey slipped her flip-phone closed and shook her head at Tom's curios glance. They were now set back further then ever before, the bomb squad had extended the perimeter by almost two hundred meters and they were beginning to loose light again, the crowd had dissipated somewhat but the news vans had almost doubled, with the bombing bringing all the attention back.

"What Charlie find?" Tom asked, standing next to her, a butterfly patch over his right cheek where a small gash was.

"The thugs are thugs no longer, and there seems only to be one kid they all had a constant connection with, although there were no actual reports of the bullying, most of it just seemed to be hearsay."

"If we're guessing this guy is his father, then where else do we go if it doesn't pan out, what if he's got another connection to those kids. What if we tracked down the wrong ones, what if it's not Carl? Another relative perhaps."

"It's a first step Tom; we'll come to the others later."

Their somewhat bitter conversation would have continued if Lindsey's cell hadn't rung again, this time it was Brenda, Lindsey's computer–tech friend who was usually called 'Q' around the office, she had been the one to take in Lindsey's list of names and to find out who exactly they referred to, "Its him Linds." Slightly surprised, Lindsey relayed the information to Tom with a smirk, "His name is Carl Macalister and Lindsey it's bad. He's military. High military."

* * *

"Eat."

"Mum!"

"Jill do not try that with me." Claire glared, her voice rumbling across the diner.

"Just wait until I start pouting." Jill snapped back, half-teasing.

"You need to eat, you were just in an explosion." Claire pointed out.

Jill took a grumpy bite of her salad, "I'm fine, weak moment over, Lindsey shouldn't have made you worry."

"The two of you were blown up. You're lucky I didn't bring chicken soup." Claire said with a hint of sarcasm.

Suddenly Jill became more sullen, "We weren't blown up," she said looking down at her salad, "Cindy…Now Cindy was blown up." She bobbed her head.

All the concerned anger drained from Claire's body and she leant forward to grasp Jill's hand, making the blonde look up. "Jill we don't know that. That son-of-a-bitch got back inside, Cindy could have too, we don't need to go acting like she dead and then have us not be able to save her when she need's us to."

Jill sighed but nodded anyway, "I know I just—" she smiled, "wanted to be a killjoy."

Claire smiled in return and then gestured to the salad, "Eat." She said, her best mum voice back on.

Jill rolled her eyes with a laugh, "Haven't we already had this conversation?"

* * *

"Lindsey?"

"Go Charlie."

"We got a problem."

"What kind."

"The kind where the kids you sent me to track down weren't Stuart Macalister's worst enemies…they were his best friends."

* * *

End chapter.

* * *


	14. 14th Minute

Disclaimer- Same as previous.

A/n- Okay so the last chapter was a bit boring so I decided to update an actual chapter with substance, hope you like it. Also a continuation of the warning from back a few chapters, things aren't so nice form here on in. Thanks to those who reviewed, feel free to flame me if it's needed :)

* * *

Chapter 14

* * *

"You should have done it the other way around." Cindy whispered, loud enough for the whole room to hear and to turn their attention on her, Carl Macalister looked up from his swivel chair behind a desk and peered at her, "What do you mean?" he grunted, shifting off of his sore hip.

Cindy's own injuries seemed to be the reason she was tempting fate, she was really starting to lack the will to care, _he was dead, oh god, he was dead_. "The other way around, you should have held a school hostage to get at the reporters; people would be more inclined to hand adults over for kids then the other way around."

Taylah Jordan, still alive, not so much kicking anymore, managed a bloody smile and groggily clasped Cindy's bloody and grimy hand, "Good thinking Cind, if I ever go crazy and want to do either of those two things, I'll come to you first." She mumbled sleepily, making those who heard her smile.

Carl rolled his eyes slowly from Taylah back to Cindy, "Those aren't kids." He murmured, "Those are monsters in disguise, only monsters could do that to my son." there were tears in his eyes again, "My beautiful son."

Cindy looked down, adjusting her damaged leg, pain roaring up her leg and plunging into her lungs, stealing her breath, she couldn't take it much longer, "You think_ their_ monsters, what do you think you are?" she asked bluntly, making the others look up in fear.

He looked at her and a sad smile crossed his face. "I'm evil. But I know that. Soon they will know what they are to." He tapped the face of his watch, "25 minutes, and counting."

* * *

"Its late, you should get home."

Jill glanced up from her computer and spied Denise in the doorway, "Since when do you care?" she snapped, not caring about disrespecting her boss.

Denise smirked, "Since your work started sucking, as a kinda domino effect, that means _my _work starts sucking." she chided.

There was a silence as the two women engaged in a staring competition. You could practically hear the crickets.

Jill looked away first; Denise took her chance to stride forward, to lean on the desk.

"I've seen you with that kid; I can understand why this affects you." She said matter-o-factly.

Jill's face turned to stone. "Cindy's _not_ a kid and she's certainly not _my_ kid."

Denise conceded the point but took another tact, gesturing with her head to the precautionary document stuck to Jill's wall, most people hid there's away in a file, tried to pretend like it hadn't happened, most didn't parade it like a Grammy, "Just like Alexis wasn't your kid."

Jill glared, "I knew that." She hissed.

"But you didn't act like it. You treated her like a daughter and when she left it was like loosing a daughter, all of which, you should know quite a lot about."

Jill stood up. Her chair scraping from the force of being pushed back, her fists were shaking and Denise seemed to realise her mistake, she stepped back and nodded to Jill. "If you're going to keep working so late you best apply for overtime,"

Jill relaxed a bit.

"I'd hate for you to sue us later."

Jill laughed coldly

* * *

Lindsey felt like her watch was betraying her. God damn it, she swore that hand was moving faster then usual. _'She had yelled something'_ the though was stuck in her head.

"So how 'bout you explain why everyone thought you were enemies."

The blonde shook her head vigorously, Nicole, she had a sad smile on her face, "Not everyone thought that. Just the teachers. Because teachers haven't been teens for so long they've forgotten what we look like."

Jacobi raised an eyebrow, "And what you mean when you say things?" he replied, a hint of sarcasm in his gravely tone.

She rolled her eyes and glanced at the three boys standing with her, who gave small signs of support, "We were different, ran in different circles so they just assumed when he was around us we were picking on him."

Lindsey stepped in, this was going around in circles, "So you were best friends?" she asked bluntly, she was cut off before she could continue.

"We were more then best friends…he was my boyfriend." Nicole said, her eyes dropping to the ground at the last.

Lindsey took that in her stride, "So why'd he kill himself?"

Again the girl glanced at her friends who looked supportive, Lindsey had to admit she didn't sense any malice in any of them, "He-he got another girl pregnant."

Lindsey scoffed, "He just assumed I'd hate him, he didn't know the things I did. His dad never taught him a thing; he thought it was all his fault. Not a set up. Didn't know he had been manipulated." Nicole continued, her voice filling with hurt.

"Set up?" Lindsey asked quickly, crossing her arms as more precious time ticked away.

"It was one of those senior parties, one of the initiation ones they do just before college, right? It was dare, you had to get some freshmen nerds into—"

Lindsey held up her hand and for the first time her expression softened, "I get it." She shook her head, "He was one of the unlucky victims chosen, but how come his own dad didn't know about his best friends? Not to mention girlfriend."

Nicole scoffed, with a rye smile she answered, "Are you kidding, Stuart's dad was away so often I'm surprised he knew what his _son_ looked like, let alone his friends or hobbies, he wouldn't even know that Stuart wanted to be a psychologist when he grew up." There were tears in her eyes and the pitch of her voice had dropped, one of the boy's, Aden, squeezed her shoulder, "Is there anything else we can do to help?" he asked softly.

"If we could convince Carl…" Tom trailed off.

Lindsey shook her head, "No matter how much about his son these guys can give him, he's military, he's not about to buy it, and he'll just see it as a scam, might start shooting earlier."

"Don't think it matters much now." Tom grunted, shaking his head.

Lindsey looked down at her watch, yeah he was right, it didn't, time was up.

* * *

Carl stood, "Who want's to go first?" he asked in a determined tone.

Cindy scoffed, Taylah had long ago passed out again and her hand had slipped from Cindy's, leaving the redhead reporter free to raise it in the air.

_It wasn't that she couldn't care. I wasn't that she didn't care._

It was the fact she couldn't sit there one more time and watch someone die, _not again,_ Tye Silvani's face was burned into her brain, his expression the moment Carl had pushed the detonator, and she couldn't have another one along side it.

Her leg throbbed; she was half-way there already.

Carl smiled at her, amused and she didn't have the energy to do anything in reply, she closed her eyes and Carl shook his head, he raised the gun.

BANG!

* * *

End chapter.

* * *

A/n—Ahh…don't you just love these cliff-hangers? We're on the end here people. Not long left, gotta have Lindsey run the show from here on in. Also...I have absolutly no idea what a freshmen, junior or senior is, well in the school hirachy sense, so, umm...apologies if it sounds seriously messed up.


	15. 15th Photo

* * *

Disclaimer- Same a previous.

A/n- Thanks to those who reviewed. I don't know the school system because it's so different from the one in Aus, but thanks for the help guys. Flames welcome. This chapter had to be re-written because it was deleted so if it seems wrong for the story, apologies.

* * *

Chapter 15

* * *

"So we just can't pretend to be them?" he asked, half knowing the answer.

"He's not stupid; we've established that, he won't fall for it." Lindsey chided in response, she needed something beyond half-assed.

"If he knows we won't give them up, then why bother, he knows he can't win?" Tom questioned, his weight shifting to his left foot, his hands finding his hips.

"There's another reason for this, he's gotta get something, I just don't know what it is." Lindsey mused out loud, her eyes unfocused as she found another train of thought.

Tom watched her after the reply and he saw her squinting into space, "Err…Linds what are you doing?"

She snapped out of it and shook her head, "It's nothing, keep going." She gestured with her hands. _God dam it!_ Lindsey couldn't get that image out of her head, Cindy screaming something just before the bomb went off, she could see the action, but she couldn't hear the words.

Tom sighed, scratching the back of his head vigorously in that way she remembered from their marriage; it meant he was annoyed and frustrated.

"How long have we got?" she asked softly.

"Another twenty until someone else dies."

"Have the S.W.A.T.'s identified the last victim?"

Tom shook his head, "Obstructed view, they got no idea."

There was a pause here, no one knew what to say and Lindsey was left to her thoughts before Tom exploded again. "God damn it! Why can't we get in there!"

Lindsey's jaw dropped. Cindy's face before the explosion, her lips moving

Screaming something.

Pleading something.

Come on Lindsey figure it out!

"_You can get in!" _

"You can get in!" Lindsey screamed, making several people look around in alarm, Tom looked at her oddly as she gripped his shoulders, "Tom we can get in. I know we can get in."

He shook his head slowly, "The perimeter is covered, the pinch's remember."

"Tom trust me. Trust Cindy." She took a breath checking again, "there's a way in there. We just have to find it."

* * *

Tom and Lindsey skirted the perimeter, keeping careful eyes out for other officers; no one would appreciate false hope if it came to nothing. No one would appreciate being doubted or second guessed. S.W.A.T had been right, all the doors were covered, Lindsey was mentally recalling the perimeter off the blue prints she had been shown by Rick days before, the building was a remake and there were a number of basements along with several unused or blocked over rooms, she nodded to Tom and they headed around the back. Both with hands on guns. The building cast a short shadow in the early sun but it was enough for it to be cool when they found the last side to the square-based pyramid, there were three ground level windows, one was blocked out completely with apparently no room behind it, the other two were caked in dirt and were impossible to see behind, in search of booby traps, that was until Lindsey looked twice.

There, written in grime were three words, words that wouldn't have made sense to anyone but her Jill, Claire or of course, Cindy. 'Club members only'

"Tom here." He peered at it closely, assessing the situation, he squinted at the glass trying to see behind it, "I don't know Linds, if there a pinch behind that thing, we both go boom."

She looked at him exasperated, not able to understand why he wasn't as sure as she was, "What? And if there isn't a pinch then Tom Hogan gets to save the day." She said with a slight sarcastic tone.

"Fine." he held up his hands, "but I'm not opening it."

Lindsey rolled her eyes and crouched down, gingerly undoing the hooks rustily, she pushed slowly and up came the pane of glass leaving just enough room for her and maybe Tom to squeeze through. "Let's go." She said when Tom let go of the breath he was holding.

"Wait." He caught her arm, "Shouldn't we go get Rick. S.W.A.T, everybody."

"We got seven minutes, if you wanna go get them, I can meet you inside," she said tersely.

"Not a chance in hell are you going in there alone." He said quickly, putting his hand to his gun.

She huffed, "Well then come on." She bent down, slipped her legs threw and then let go, sliding down easily, Tom cursed before awkwardly trying to do the same.

* * *

God she hated that sound. That hell of a sound.

BANG!

Why couldn't it just be the last time she'd have to hear it.

Because she wasn't that lucky.

Ted Smuff, lay on the ground, dead, the smoking hole between his eyes, Cindy opened her eyes long held shut and almost laughed up at Carl as he stood smiling at her, she turned away "You son-of-a-bitch, you just couldn't kill me." She scoffed, hysteria building in her over-pressured head.

He smiled, coldly, "I thought you'd be grateful, you get to stick around for a bit longer."

Cindy's finger's curled into fists and she stood, forgetting about her bleeding and broken leg, "I'm not fucking grateful, I wish you'd just kill me. You have no problem doing it to them, you just like to make things difficult." She laughed, and no one left in the room had the will to care, they had just see a 64 year old grandfather of four murdered right in front of them, they just_ couldn't_ care, "I think if I was your son I wouda' killed myself to."

His face turned to stone; he growled and raised the gun, and Cindy couldn't give a damn.

* * *

"Tom are you sure you know what your doing?" Lindsey asked in a whisper, they were just outside the door, the elder of the two fiddling with the large explosive looking device wired to the door.

"Yeah, when I worked with the gangs we did a couple of jobs with bomb squad; I picked up a few things." He tapped a button on the keypad and examined another wire, "the only difficulty is determining the trip wire, the numbers aren't the main trigger, it's the fuse."

Lindsey frowned before shaking her, "I have no idea what you just said but it sounds impressive, keep that up. You got two minutes."

Tom rolled his eyes, "No pressure." He mumbled under his breath

Lindsey stared at her watch, time continued to tick.

1:45

1:00

0:45

0:10

0:04

_Clickhiss._

"Go!" Tom hissed

Lindsey kicked down the door

* * *

End chapter.

* * *


	16. 16th Light

* * *

Disclaimer- don't own don't sue.

A/n- Very short chapter because it flowed better this way but I will update faster then normal to make up for it. Thanks to those who reviewed, as always flames and reviews welcome.

* * *

Chapter 16

* * *

"They're gone." Jill shrugged, throwing up her hands.

"Gone where?" Rick snapped, yanking off his sunglasses and glancing around.

"Good question." That was Claire, hands on hips peering around for any signs of their missing comrades.

"If those two needed time to be alone together then they certainly couldn't have picked a worse one, we were just about to move." Rick growled, his dislike clear.

Claire glared him and nodded at Jill who subtlety knocked him upside the head, he looked at her, fuming. "Sorry, slipped." She shrugged.

Rick's radio crackled, "Sir I think we found them." The sniper sounded put-out.

"Oh great! Where?" Rick shouted in response.

"Err…their inside the building sir," the answer came.

All three jaws dropped.

* * *

The door was heavy. God damn it was heavy. Which mad it slow. Which gave him enough time.

Bang!

Tom went down, bullet to the kevlar protected chest. That distracted Lindsey long enough for Carl to grab Cindy by the neck and hold her much the same we he had done outside, Lindsey levelled her gun, she could here Tom coughing, but there was no blood, he'd be okay.

Carl held his gun tersely, his back to the stricken reporters behind him, Taylah Jordan became conscious again and Samuel Anderson couldn't look away.

Lindsey cursed

So far their siege wasn't going according to plan.

So far their siege sucked.

"Put it down!" Carl snarled, "I've got plenty of hostages in here one less is no problem for me." Lindsey didn't move, her gun stayed levelled at his head.

"When I find out how you got in here someone's gonna die!" Carl spat, his eyes wide, in spite and shock.

Lindsey smirked coldly, "Oh someone's gonna die, but it's not gonna be me or her," she nodded her head to Cindy, "or any of them for that matter." She said, jerking her head at the hopeful, yet afraid reporters.

Carl beared his teeth in a snarl, his somewhat injured body not so stable, "I said put it down." His voice was cold and calm and that was more worrying. He grabbed Cindy's hand and crushed the barrel against it, "Or we'll see how she likes writing left handed."

Cindy could see Lindsey and she could see the end of all the death, she wasn't so keen to die anymore, not if it could all be over. Not if Lindsey could save her, save all of them, no more death.

Lindsey hesitated, gritting her teeth, "Linds don't—" Cindy managed to choke out before he jerked her neck painfully.

Lindsey took four deep breaths, hesitated, then lowered her weapon, putting it at her feet and straightening with hands in the air, she kicked it away as he instructed.

Carl smirked, Cindy looked stricken. That wasn't supposed to happen, it was supposed to all end.

His grip around her neck slackened somewhat as he extended his gun arm to point the weapon at Lindsey, Tom was still useless on the floor, struggling to breath, his gun somewhere lost on the floor.

Carl almost looked relieved, he smiled at Lindsey, "Good work Boxer, you did as you were told, just like any good cop."

Lindsey scoffed, "You wouldn't know a thing about good cops." She spat, hate boiling in her veins.

He laughed smugly, a smarmy look on his face, "Well I'm guessing…they all die heroically."

Lindsey tensed. She was gonna die.

No, no more death.

Cindy slacked; she wasn't going to let that happen.

Ignoring the fire in her leg Cindy slipped form his grip, hitting him in the face with the back of her head, sending him stumbling, she turned, shoved him, and he went further, his own sore legs crumbling from all the twisting and sinking him awkwardly to one leg, in front of the tense reporters with the other lying like a half split in the opposite direction

Lindsey dove for her gun, she wasn't fast enough.

Cindy ducked: she wasn't fast enough.

He snarled, raised the gun and fired.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Bodies hit the ground.

The death wasn't ending.

* * *

End chapter.

* * *


	17. 17th Calm

Disclaimer- Same as previous.

A/n- Thanks to **mathematicsunset**, who gave me the clue to change around the ending a bit, hope you like it.

* * *

Chapter 17

* * *

Cindy finally felt it. The bullets tear through her chest. It didn't hurt as much as she had expected, oh no, it hurt a whole lot more.

She fell to what she thought was the ground, only to realise seconds later she had actually been caught, Lindsey lowered her gently to the ground. Cindy tried to shake her head, tried to tell Lindsey to move. There was still the bad guy to take care of, what was she doing?

"Cind, your okay, your going to be okay," Lindsey hushed, pressing her palm to the wound just below Cindy's heart.

"Car--l." Cindy frowned when her voice didn't work properly, she felt light, all over, and her fingers tingled.

"He's down sweetie, he's gone." Lindsey whispered, tears glazing her eyes, the back of her mouth and nose burning.

Cindy shook her head. That didn't make sense. Lindsey shushed her, "Just stay still, just lye still, we'll get you some help, I promise, your going to be okay."

"He's not." Another voice whispered and Lindsey looked up, managing to smile at Taylah Jordan who was crumpled next to the body of Carl Macalister, one hand on his neck, the other wrapped around his gun. His second gun that was. The one he had kept concealed and so easily given up when he had fallen, his splayed leg just close enough for the wounded, ground level reporter to reach.

He had hit Cindy. Twice

She had hit him once. It was enough.

Taylah smiled back, her breathing still terrible, her wounds still leaking blood, Samuel held her, "There's an advantage to spending days at ankle height." She joked weakly and Lindsey guessed she was half-way to hysterical and the other half close to dead.

There was the sound of feet and the crackling of radio's, Lindsey breathed a sigh of relief as Tom struggled to his feet, the S.W.A.T guys broke in, minutes later, Jill, Claire and a whole crew of EMT's

Lindsey squeezed, Cindy's hand, "Your okay Cind, your okay." She repeated, unsure of for whose benefit.

Jill watched her be wheeled out and her shoulders quaked, her sinus burning, she looked away before Lindsey could notice, but not Claire.

The eldest member of the club wrapped her in a hug, "I'm driving."

Jill groaned and the three laughed sadly.

* * *

"Diabetes in a cup." Luke handed one to Jill.

"Diabetes in a cup." One to Lindsey.

"And…water." To Claire.

She glared at him, "How about I settle for a plain white, no sugar?" she asked softly.

Luke grinned and removed the last cup from behind his back, and handed it to her "Already done."

Claire glared tiredly again, this time directing it at Jill, "He's entirely too smug." She muttered.

Jill managed the weakest smile before burying her nose in her own cup.

Lindsey rubbed her forehead, tiredly, "Is there any news?" she whispered.

Luke sighed and assumed his doctor mode, "None of it good Linds, but she's fighting."

"She's Cindy." Jill said quietly and the other's nodded in reply.

"Is she gonna live?" Lindsey asked bluntly.

Luke paused, thinking, "It's up to her, she chooses I guess, we've done all we can."

Lindsey nodded, standing up and walking down the hall, "Then she'll be fine. Just fine."

* * *

"Just so you know, this isn't going into my advice collum." Taylah said, slightly drowsily as the morphine drip was still on high, Samuel grinned, "'Course not, however, Guns magazine might take it." He grinned.

She leaned forward in her hospital bed, wincing as she disturbed her chest again, "Whoever told you, you were funny…isn't your friend." She mumbled goggily.

* * *

"Shouldn't you be at the morgue?" Jill asked from her chair in the corner, Claire was pacing and Lindsey was leaning against the doorway.

Claire glanced up, "Bunny can handle it."

Not taking her eyes off Cindy, Lindsey murmured, "You have _got_ to stop letting that girl near power tools."

Claire looked indignant, "I'll have you know that when, _should_ I need an autopsy done, I would want her to do it." Lindsey and Jill looked at one another before the former looked back at Claire.

"Well shut my mouth." She snarked.

Before the girls could laugh there was a murmur from the bed and the three of them tensed, Claire moved to Cindy's side taking her hand and squeezing it, "Cindy, sweetie can you hear me?"

The prone young girl coughed weakly, her eyes fluttering a bit, both Lindsey and Jill stood at the foot of her bed while Claire leaned over her further in concern.

Cindy's eyes opened slowly and she blinked up at them, swallowing thickly, "Claire?" she asked grizzly, gazing up at the older women.

Claire smiled, "It's us sweetie."

Cindy groaned, "Please don't stand there, you're a coroner remember?" she laughed weakly.

And the others chuckled at Claire's expense, who grinned also.

"Good to have you back Cindy." Lindsey said in all seriousness.

Cindy swallowed. "Good to be back."

* * *

End chapter.

* * *

A/n- Very short I know, but the next and last chapter is the epilogue and I thought that would go best on its own, so please stick around for that. :)

Note: In case you're wondering, Cindy died in my original version, but public opinion forced me to change it :)


	18. Epilouge: 18 Seconds

Disclaimer- same as previous.

* * *

A/n- Thanks to those who reviewed. Really appreciate it guys. :)

* * *

"And of course he ends up shooting himself!" the girls roared with laughter, "And I mean that must of hurt, right in the—"

"Order's up." Susie slid the next round of margaritas around to each girl as they slowly let their laughter out. Cindy winced with a grin on her face, clutching at her ribs, "Ha ha! Don't make me laugh, it hurts." She joked feebly

That set them off again and it was a few minutes before any of their glasses were touched.

Lindsey sighed and leaned back in her chair, "Its almost 12:00, I have to be getting back."

"Boyfriend start to worry if you're gone more then a couple o' minutes?" Jill teased sarcastically with the slightest of slurred voices.

Lindsey glared, "You're lucky I lack the will to rebuke that." She joked as she slipped from their booth, entirely ungracefully, Cindy followed suit, "Why I have no boyfriend to keep me on such a short leash—" Jill and Claire cackled again, Lindsey glared, "I do have an editor who will fire me, bullet holes or no and he's not as cute as Pete, so no bonus there." She winked.

Over her momentary offence Lindsey spoke, "Split a cab?"

"Deal."

"You guys coming?" Lindsey asked Claire and Jill, both women shaking their heads,

Jill grinned, "No thanks, we'll stay here and finish the twelve drink minimum." all four club members laughed again before Lindsey and Cindy bade the others goodbye, leaving Papajoes in an almost non-embarrassing state.

They walked through the snow towards the taxi-stop, Lindsey finally saying what she had been thinking for quite sometime, "You know, you'd make a good cop, you would." She said stumbling on a snow clump.

Cindy laughed ruefully but Lindsey shook her head, "I'm serious Cindy. You should consider it as a profession."

Cindy chocked, putting another hand to her chest to cover the pain, "No thanks, after the last month, reporting's where the action is."

Lindsey laughed, "It was just an idea."

"Well keep your idea's to yourself." Cindy joked

Sending both women back into giggles.

* * *

Jill and Claire sat at their booth almost completely sobered by the conversation. "Oh sweetie, I had no idea."

Jill shook her head. "No one did, I didn't want them to, 'cept Denise who ignores all kinds of privacy laws."

"But now you do?"

Jill nodded, "Yeah now I do, and I-I know I was young but I was so looking forward to being a mother, and to just have it taken away like that." She paused and Claire hugged her saying in a firm yet soft voice, "Sweetie you will have that feeling again, I know you will, and you'll get to experience the even better version when you hold that child, I know you will."

Tears in her eyes, Jill grinned, "'Reckon I'd make a good mother."

"Hell," Claire laughed "You can borrow one of mine for practice!"

They both laughed again, and Jill felt better.

* * *

Cindy got home earlier then expected, she was about ready to crash, she had a severe margarita headache that would only be worse in the morning, collapsing onto her bed after redoing her bandages the only thing to interrupt her peace was the ring of her cell phone. With a groan the young reporter gingerly rolled onto her side reached into her purse before fumbling with her phone.

"Thomas."

"Up for a midnight sting?" asked the voice on the other line, she laughed.

"Samuel it is nearly one o'clock, you are seriously not asking me to do this."

"It's a drug ring, high profile, possible politicians involved, come on Thomas, you know you want to."

Cindy laughed; making her chest quake again, she sighed, put a hand over her eyes before answering, "Give me the address."

"That's my girl, Lois Lane."

* * *

End story

* * *

A/n- Okay guys, i hope you enjoyed it, i really appreciate you guys sticking with me the whole way, i'm glad no one lost interest, ;) A bit of shameless advertising, to cure my anger over the cancellation i have another story to post, it will be almost as long as this one and i hope you guys will tune in for it, its a little darker, and more mystery then this one, but with the same great 'club' moments. It's called **Undercover**, and will involve the girls solving a mystery entirley to close to home. One of them is the victim.

Thanks again for reading, i couldn't have done it without you, hope to read your reviews again, thanks!


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